


Flowers For A Gardner

by teareadknitsleep



Series: The Romance of Flower Girl and Gardner [1]
Category: Dear Sidewalk (2013)
Genre: Agoraphobia, Bullying, F/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teareadknitsleep/pseuds/teareadknitsleep
Summary: Gardner is enrolled in college and has met a woman in his Literature class.  She wears lilac perfume and wears floral dresses, so in his mind he calls her Flower Girl.  They get introduced in an odd way and bond quickly, but Gardner gets cold feet because he's concerned about getting sidetracked from pursuing his dreams. Various other obstacles keep our two skittish lovers from getting together, until Gardner finally realizes he's found the best reason in the world to finally learn how to drive.
Relationships: Gardner Langway/Original Female Character
Series: The Romance of Flower Girl and Gardner [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870825
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Joe Mazzello as Gardner Langway

Christina Hendrix as Flower Girl/Leah Masters

A subtle floral scent disturbed Gardner's usually stolid fortress of impermeable defenses from the outside world's challenges to his serenity and sense of stability. He was sitting in his Literature class on his first day at college, anxiously waiting for the class to begin. It wasn't a bad sort of anxiety – he was excited about enrolling in college and finding out what the world of knowledge held for him from the relative safety of a desk in a building situated in his hometown. That was just about his speed. Not totally without the chance of negative consequences, but on the other side of the equation were balanced ripe possibilities of all sorts of rewards and new horizons.

It was just like writing a letter and sending it off to someone. You would lay your words upon the page, choosing how much of yourself you wanted to reveal and inquiring in return that the recipient divulge their knowledge and truth (or their version of it anyway). What came back to you, if they chose to respond, was beyond your control, but if and when you got that return letter, the payoff could be mind-blowingly satisfying. Their words could surprise or enlighten or amuse or captivate or delight you, or they could squeeze your heart or pride or confidence until you cried for mercy, wrung out with tears and aching until you were a mere husk. Gardner, a former postal carrier, believed in the power of the letter and witnessed its ability to unite and inform. By extension, he also believed that a solid education could do the same for him.

Authors who wrote fictional stories were really just writing letters to their readers after all, he reasoned. Story tellers memorialized in writing oral histories they had heard, or concocted and wrote down fantastic tales they imagined with universal themes of love, anger, fear, jealousy, greed, hate and loss, which all functional human beings needed to understand and experience, even if only vicariously. Gardner had mused upon how much of his own experience had been of the vicarious sort, at least until a few months ago, when he had met a woman named Paige who was a customer on his postal route, who had initiated him to a few of those most basic of human emotions in a less-than-joyous way. They had had a very brief encounter – he dared not even call it a relationship or even affair, since that annoyed and provoked her so profoundly that it had led to the fissure of their friendship and they were no longer in communication. What he mostly learned from Paige was firstly, how to have sexual intercourse with a woman (fairly unsatisfactorily), and secondly, what he didn't want in a romantic relationship.

Which led Gardner's mind back to the scent of flowers, or lilacs, to be more precise. The aroma seemed to be emanating from the woman seated next to him. He dared not turn his head to look at her. No, he was not bold or foolhardy enough for that. He had learned his lesson with Paige. Look at a woman and the next thing you know she's trying to take over your life's meticulously ordered routine and throwing your watch in the river. But oh, the smell of lilacs! It made Gardner feel a bit melancholy, thinking of and yearning for all the time he used to spend walking outside amongst houses that had flower gardens on his much beloved postal route, delivering the mail, before he got fired from his job for slacking off during that liaison with Paige, when she turned his world upside down and had convinced him to deviate from his rigid routine and his commitment to being Austin's best and most reliable postal carrier.

The floral smell evoked feelings of bitterness and sadness and a tinge of regret, even as Gardner reminded himself that if he still had that job, he wouldn't be here now, getting ready to commence a new, potentially exciting and rewarding chapter of his life in search of knowledge and new vistas of opportunity. He had no idea what subject he wanted to major in, nor what his ultimate career destination would be. For now, he was just studying part-time, taking classes in Literature, Geography and Astronomy. Still, his chosen curriculum had a deliberate theme: exploration. He was going to immerse himself in the imaginary world of fiction and the minds of those who wrote those stories. He'd learn about the world in which he lived, discovering unfamiliar cultures in other lands. To round out his study program, he'd explore the cosmic universe and find out what was out there when the night sky descended and he was afforded a brief glimpse of the stars and planets and galaxies.

It seemed to him like he had covered all his bases, and he fancied himself to be, in his own small way, a seeker, an explorer, maybe even a cartographer of worlds he'd like to know. He had already thoroughly mapped his mail route and knew its intricacies to the nth degree. He knew it so well, he knew every inch of the sidewalk, including all the bumps and cracks. The fact that he could do all of this ambitious new exploration from the relative safety of this college classroom and, between classes, from the boat parked in his brother's driveway where he dwelled, well that was just a marvelous, wondrous state of affairs. How could this very confined space afford such breadth of possibility to anyone? Well, you'd just have to know Gardner to understand how it all seemed like heaven on a stick.

Many people who met Gardner might have thought he was oddly rigid and controlled, maybe they'd even have amateurishly diagnosed him as having obsessive compulsive disorder. His general way of summing things up when people noticed his unusual manner was "I kinda have a certain way of doing things all the time."

He found comfort in routine. When he worked for the post office, he loved that his route never varied. Even the advent of a new customer moving into a house on his route could unsettle him (putting aside the epic arrival of Paige, about whom his friend Trudie had warned him to "buckle the fuck up," when she told him there was a new resident at the house with the yellow door). His arrival at work was so punctual his co-workers used to place bets on it down to the second. His brother Calvin (who was, in reality, a close friend who had taken him in when Gardner's parents deserted him in his youth) knew he could always expect him home for dinner at precisely 5:29 p.m.

Gardner took comfort in small spaces, such as the boat in which he dwelt. There was a place for everything, and everything had its place. There was self-sufficiency in taking up little personal space. There was also a certain psychological safety in establishing a small footprint in the wider world by not calling attention to himself and confining his interaction to a trusted few friends. Gardner's world consisted solely of his former postal carrier co-workers whom he still considered friends, his best friend Trudie who was a former customer, his brother Calvin, Calvin's girlfriend Tracy, and Tracy's best friend Rose (though Rose caused Gardner some disquiet, with her sly, flirtatious smiles, batting eyelashes, and longing gazes, Gardner knew she and Tracy were a package deal and therefore he tolerated her). Other than those friends, he avoided mingling with what he called "civilians."

Although he did break that rule for a select few when his job required it. After he was fired from the postal service, Gardner had been at an utter loss for what to do next. He had moped at home for a while, then Calvin had disastrously tried to enlist him as an auto mechanic at the garage where he worked. Aside from wearing the coveralls provided him with decided aplomb and comfort, nothing else about the job suited him. He didn't know how to drive, didn't have a driver's license, and didn't know the first thing about cars or the tools used to mend them. After one day on the job and one seriously pissed off and offended female customer, he retreated from the garage never to return, though he did keep the coveralls. He still wore them around the boat and Calvin's house; they were comfy and he liked how they hid what he considered to be his soft, poochy tummy.

In Gardner's new job, he did have to mingle with the public, but he was still very discriminating in whom he allowed into his orbit and the way he interacted with them. Tracy had managed to get him a job at the bar where she worked, which had a games arcade attached to it. Gardner and Calvin used to play skee ball there frequently before Calvin and Tracy were dating, and Tracy had noticed that while Calvin was hopeless at the game, Gardner possessed some seriously mad skills at the game. In fact, he was pretty good at all the arcade games, particularly the ones that required great concentration and hand/eye coordination. In urging her to hire him, Calvin, always Gardner's biggest supporter and cheerleader, pumped up his credentials to Tracy, enthusing "You oughta see him in a horseshoe pit – he's da bomb!!!"

So it was that Gardner found himself working at the Good Time Bar and Arcade. He eventually settled on working mid-afternoon to closing time on weekdays, and on weekends he was on duty for the day shift. In addition to accommodating his plan for attending college classes, there was a marketing method in this scheduling strategy. Management had noticed that the arcade's primary clientele, kids who dropped by on their way home from school or hung out on the weekends, or whose parents reserved the space for their birthday parties, absolutely adored Gardner, and he had a rapport with them that was uncanny. He spoke their language and saw the world through their eyes. He was their pied piper.

It wasn't just that he felt the same joy of the game as the kids, given that he had been cruelly robbed of his own childhood. He did enjoy showing them how to hone their skills so that they could win enough tickets to score a bigger and better prize. His more important motivation, however, came from knowing what it was like to have a longing for a place to belong, a clubhouse, if you will, and for many of those kids, the Good Time Arcade was that place.

Many of those kids had no friends, no comrades with whom they entered through the doors. Those were the kids to whom Gardner was most drawn – the geeks, the outcasts, the insecure loners, the ones who stood out because they were different. He'd approach them and say a few words to them to let them know that this was a safe space for them, where they could lay down their disappointments, insecurities and cares for a couple of hours. He made sure that the kids who did show up in intimidating roaming gangs didn't get too rowdy or pick on the younger or more vulnerable kids. In short, he was the law enforcer of civility, trust and kindness, and was a nurturing presence in the arcade, something that he had never had the benefit of as a kid. Again, he was living vicariously through someone else's life, but it felt damn good. He believed that he had constructed a world where maybe hope and happiness were not illusions, however temporary.

After introducing herself and the subject matter of the class, the professor said they would take the roll call, asking everyone to introduce themselves and say a bit about themselves, where they were from, what year in school they were, what their major was, and what they wanted to do when they graduated from college, the usual icebreaker types of information. Gardner's blood ran cold with dread. First of all, he knew he must probably be the oldest one in the class, at the ripe old age of 25 ½, and a lowly freshman at that. How embarrassing! He snuck a look around him and visually confirmed his fear. Next, he felt ashamed that he had absolutely no freakin' clue what he wanted to major in, and didn't want to come off sounding like a pathetic drifter with no clear direction in life. And most obviously, Gardner was terrified of public speaking. He could feel a drop of sweat descend from his spiky auburn hairline down to his left ear. He flicked it away self-consciously, annoyed that his body was betraying him so quickly and apparently.

As Gardner waited for his turn to speak, frantically searching for something either profound, glib or witty to say, he noticed that there was a huffing sound emanating from the woman sitting next to him. Against his better judgment, he turned his head slightly to observe her and stole a glance at her. His first impression of her nearly knocked him off his chair. She had flaming red hair that framed her face in loose waves, creamy pale skin that was dusted with a smattering of freckles, and she was _solid_. Gardner was reminded of the Looney Tunes cartoons he and Calvin loved to watch when they were kids, when a voluptuous woman would be depicted and there would be a wolf who would start howling and his eyes would bug out of his head and his heart would bulge out of his chest and a horn would sound "aaaaoooogaaahhh!" That's the sensation he had, looking at her. She appeared to be fairly tall, though he couldn't be sure because she was seated, she had curves for miles with some real meat on her bones, and if God had illustrated the dictionary, Gardner was sure her picture would have graced the entry for the word WOMAN.

After getting over the initial shock of noticing her beauty and sex appeal, however, Gardner realized that something was seriously amiss. She seemed to be in extreme distress, even more distress than Gardner himself seemed to be in, presumably at the prospect of this whole icebreaker exercise. She was gripping the desk in front of her with fingers that had gone white from the pressure, and the sweat that bedewed her forehead made Gardner's perspiration seem mild in comparison. She was staring at the floor, hunched over, and appeared to be hyperventilating, apparently in an effort not to throw up or pass out. To Gardner's perception, he felt he recognized the signs of an anxiety attack.

Gardner was a veteran of this type of combat. Without thinking twice, he jumped in the foxhole with the woman. He gently took one of her hands and nudged her and whispered "Hey, you're okay. I'm here and you're here and we're just sitting here in these chairs breathing. Breathe with me, okay?"

The woman whipped her head up to size up his intrusion into her nightmare and assess whether to flee or accept the life preserver he was throwing her. She squinted through the tears that had beclouded her vision and were dripping from her eyes. She couldn't see him very well. All she could see was a nest of ginger hair, two smudges of brownish/greenish eyes, pink skin, and what seemed like a smile. Involuntarily, she listened to Gardner as he instructed her on what to do.

"You breathe when I breathe," he whispered. "I'm going to squeeze your hand and you'll breathe in. Then I'll squeeze your hand and you'll breathe out. Okay?" He looked at her hopefully, praying that she could hear and understand him through her panicked haze.

She nodded wordlessly as he gave her hand a squeeze and urged her "Breathe..." She gasped and choked. Gardner, startled, said "Easy now, easy. Okay, let it out." He squeezed her hand again and said "Breathe," and she inhaled again. He said "Hold it for a second. Now breathe out," and he squeezed her hand. She did as she was told. Eventually, she started to squeeze back when he squeezed her hand for the next breath, and they got into the same rhythm until she evened out her respiration and wasn't gasping anymore.

Gardner used his free hand to reach into his backpack and fumbled around, then drew out a little package of Kleenex and offered her one. She grasped it appreciatively and began to mop from her face the traces of her distress. Just in time, too, because by now, the row of the auditorium where she and Gardner were sitting were now one by one in the process of introducing themselves. Gardner preceded her.

He cleared his throat, reached for his water bottle, stole a quick sip, and cleared his throat again. He said "I'm Gardner Langway. I'm a freshman and I'm from Austin. I'm studying to be a citizen of the world."

The class laughed, but somehow Gardner didn't have that awful feeling he often used to have, before he met Paige and then got fired from the only job he had ever held and just generally grew up a little, that the people were laughing _at_ him. He had broadened his horizons a bit now, he tried to reassure himself, and hoped that maybe they were laughing _with_ him. In any case, he realized that there were more important things in life at this moment than gaining the approbation of his classmates. Easing the distress of the person sitting next to him mattered a lot more to him right now, and for him, that's what was on his mind when he mentioned citizenship. Caring for your fellow man (or seriously beautiful, vulnerable woman) was something noble and necessary, and it was something that superseded all other accolades and accomplishments.

He realized he was still holding the woman's hand, and his cheeks pinked up, knowing the whole class might have spotted it too. He dropped it quickly, as if he was holding a hot coal. She looked embarrassed, too, and took a cleansing breath before she tried to speak. "I'm Leah Masters. I'm originally from a small town outside of Austin which you probably haven't heard of. I'm a sophomore, studying political science and advocacy. I want to be a do-gooder." She cast her eyes back down on the desk and the next person introduced themselves.

Gardner snuck another look at the lilac-scented woman. He noticed she was wearing a dress with a floral pattern, solidifying in his mind his own nickname for her, Flower Girl. But now she had a real name – Leah. He wondered what was going through her mind. Did she think he was a freak to have broken into her prison of panic? He cringed as he reflected that he had vaulted over her walls without permission. Knowing how closely he guarded his own personal space, both physical and mental, he immediately began to second-guess himself.

_'What were you thinking, you dummy? You utter oaf! How could you just invade her private agony like that? Who the hell do you think you are? Sir Lancelot? Who asked you to come galloping in on your horse like a white knight? And what makes you think ...?'_

His merciless mental self-flagellation was interrupted by the sensation of a soft hand clutching his hand briefly, squeezing him once and then releasing it. "Thank you," she whispered, without looking at him, then she released his hand and went back to clutching the desk again but this time with less tension in her fingers. They were pink and healthy with normal circulation now, not white with the blood drained away.

The rest of class was a hodgepodge of instructions about how to interpret the syllabus, where to buy the required texts, how to download the supplemental materials online, how to upload assignments to the online university portal, and warnings about deadlines and protocols for permitted absences and extensions. The teacher explained that class participation would comprise a considerable portion of their grade and that she expected students to not only have read the materials but to be prepared to discuss them. She also mentioned something about individual oral presentations being part of their final project.

Gardner only listened with half an ear to all of this. For one thing, it seemed like the teacher was speaking in tongues. He hadn't been in a classroom in over seven years, so he was rusty, and the technology of education sure had changed since he was in high school. Overriding that bewilderment was the fact that he couldn't get his mind off the drama that had taken place with his fellow classmate, or Flower Girl as he had dubbed her in his mind.

As the class wrapped up, the professor concluded, "Okay, look to your left and right and memorize where you're sitting. That's where you're going to be sitting the rest of the semester. I've got a class facebook with your names and pictures and I want to get to know you, so it will be a big help with a class this size if you stay put in the same place. I'll see you on Thursday."

When class was over, Flower Girl sprang up from her seat and grabbed her bag. With her head down and the crook of her arm crossed over her face as if she were playing some sort of strange game of hide and seek, she moved through the milling students towards the door, only occasionally peeking up to make sure she didn't crash into anything or anyone. Gardner's jaw went slack observing this odd behavior. He was mystified and intrigued. He couldn't interpret it or account for her manner and for once, he thought, someone in his presence could be said to be behaving even more strangely than he ever did. That was an unusual sensation that he found not unpleasant. The corners of his lips quirked up a bit as he let his gaze follow her out of the lecture hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, give kudos and let a friend know that this story exists. I'd like to know who is reading this story and it's a pleasure to interact with you. Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

On Thursday, Gardner turned up early for class, as was his habit for all appointments of any consequence. He preferred to leave plenty of time to get where he was going so that he would never be late or disappoint someone if they were waiting for him. He felt that to keep someone waiting would be to disrespect their time, and that went for his teacher, whom he definitely respected. Of course his anticipation had _zero_ to do with a sense of thrilling excitement to see Flower Girl again. No Sirree.

He was surprised to see a lone figure sitting amongst the empty desks, right next to his allotted seat. Flower Girl was at her place, nervously fiddling with her belongings, fingering and rearranging the line of pens she had arrayed in front of her, squaring up her notebook at right angles to her text book and the novel they were reading for their first assignment, _Pride and Prejudice_. She seemed to like her possessions to sit in their place on the desk _just so_. Gardner recognized the impulse and smiled to himself, relating to her meticulous care with a sense of deep calling to deep.

He shuffled alongside her and took his seat. The sound of him flinging his bag on the floor startled her and she flinched, crying "Eeep!" She blushed as if she realized how foolish she must have seemed. She didn't look at Gardner, but kept her eyes' gaze down on the desk, cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

Gardner wouldn't normally strike up a conversation with anyone, even under duress, just because they were the only two people in an empty room. He was perfectly at home with silence and was not interested in idle chit chat. Nor did he feel he came to college to make friends. He felt that his world of friends and loved ones was sufficiently complete and wasn't in need of anything more.

Maybe it was a side effect of having been abandoned by his parents, but Gardner was very big on emotional self-sufficiency. He also had no patience for frivolity, unreliability or flakiness. Gardner could see worlds of possibility and significance in a postage stamp, and people like Paige who couldn't comprehend that and told him to loosen up were not worth his time. If he could thank Paige for one thing, it was for forcing him to lift his gaze up a little higher than the sidewalk. Yet he knew in his heart that of the two of them, his values and character had been more stable and fully formed. Even if he was going to take a new journey, Gardner would always keep one foot planted on the ground and make sure his canteen was full, and he wouldn't need anybody else with him to make the trip worthwhile.

Like Flower Girl, Gardner began to similarly arrange his possessions on the desk in front of him. Her presence unnerved him and his hand shook a bit as he laid out his spiral notebook (Gardner frowned upon laptop computers, and in any case he couldn't afford one), pen with the United States Postal Service logo, and water bottle (Gardner suffered from dry mouth, probably a nervous tic). Then he interlaced his fingers and placed them upon the desk and prepared to wait.

He tried to let his mind drift to a neutral place of waiting, as he usually did, but he had an odd sensation of being watched. He tried to ignore it, but he was starting to feel almost physical vibrations of observation bouncing off him. Flower Girl was watching him.

He wondered how much of her scrutiny he could withstand without having to acknowledge it. He wasn't one for small talk. He wasn't really one for _any_ talk with civilians, as he used to refer to his customers on his route and now used as a general term for strangers. He cleared his throat and hummed in the back of his throat, trying to center himself.

It did little good. He was still catching those watching vibes. They were pinging off of him, like little darts of debris when he used to ride his bicycle real fast with Calvin down a dirt road.

And of course there was that scent again. The scent of lilacs. Which led him on remembered trips through neighborhoods on his postal route which he no longer traversed, which made his heart ache just a bit.

A soft squishy feeling invaded his senses. He was now being _poked_! Flower Girl was turned in her seat, facing him and poking his forearm, and was trying to get his attention. What was he supposed to do now? Obviously this called for a response. Reluctantly, he turned his head and gave her his attention.

"Yes?" he inquired gingerly, noncommittally.

"Oh, hi. I just wanted to –" She stopped and noticed Gardner's expression wasn't exactly welcoming or inviting. She recalibrated. "Oh, uhm, well, thanks for helping me yesterday. That's all I wanted to say." Then she turned her body back to face the front and resumed fiddling with her belongings. She completely shut down as if she had lowered a set of blinds between them.

Gardner eyed her retreat with a dollop of relief but a smidgen of regret. He said "Sure. No problem."

Slowly, the rest of the class began to filter in. Gardner kept his eyes steadfastly directed away from Flower Girl, but he could hear her striking up a conversation with another girl sitting near her. He marveled at her ability to chat amiably with strangers and wondered at the cognitive dissonance between that mindset and the panic attack she had had that made her afraid to introduce herself to the class. He also contrasted her friendliness to his own reluctance to open up to civilians and wondered how he could ever hope to move on from the disaster that had been his one brief encounter with Paige and maybe someday find a real relationship with another woman.

For that was Gardner's one exception to mingling with civilians. He wasn't opposed to finding a girlfriend, though the prospect somewhat terrified him. That was another thing he for which he could thank Paige. All the people in his life had mostly demonized Paige after they split up, but he preferred to have a more nuanced view of their time together. She did make him realize that he would like to have a girlfriend, and that he could be a sexual being. As for the negative part of their relationship, the way he looked at it, she had shown him what he _didn't_ want in a relationship and that had its own value. If you've seen the bottom, then you can only go up from there.

Yet here he was, sitting next to the most attractive woman he had ever seen, and he was blowing it! And it wasn't just that she was gorgeous. She seemed to have some good vibes. She seemed to share some of Gardner's own tendencies and idiosyncrasies. But then she started in with the chattiness, and well, that just took him aback. He had had enough of pushy women with Paige.

When class ended, Flower Girl gathered up her belongings and fled the scene. That's when Gardner felt it would be safe to take another peek at her. Once again, she was wearing a dress with a floral print. It was a long, flowing sundress that billowed out behind her as she darted through the crowd, gaze riveted to the floor and then bobbing her head up and cringing as she careened into someone, then shrinking back as if she had been electrocuted and apologizing.

_'What is up with that?'_ Gardner wondered. _'What is she afraid of?'_ Now Gardner was at war with himself. He didn't want to intrude. He valued his privacy and respected others' as well. But he was attracted to this woman who was obviously troubled, and perhaps one of the factors that attracted him was the very fact was that she was troubled. Again, it was deep calling to deep as he somehow related to her distress. He determined that he would try to overcome his natural tendency to avoid entanglements to try to get to the bottom of this mystery and see if he could help her. Even if there was no romantic payoff, the prospect of helping her like the way he helped his arcade kids gave him a reason worth making an exception for this civilian.

Gardner turned up for Tuesday's class early as usual, and as he hoped, Flower Girl was already sitting in her seat. He slid into his seat next to her, unpacked his gear and got himself settled in. He tried to do some of that yoga breathing Calvin had taught him (he suspected that Calvin watched those yoga videos more for the sexy women in thong leotards than to get centered and limber). Finally, he decided to take the plunge.

He turned towards Flower Girl. Today she had on a blouse with a pattern of small sprigs of flowers and a long ruffled skirt with several uneven layers. He said "Hi."

She startled like a frightened colt and yelped "Eeep!"

Gardner frowned and guilt overtook him. "Sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!"

She stuttered "N-n-no, it's, it's okay. It's me. I get so unconscious of my surroundings, I go inside myself sometimes and I don't come out until I have to. Until it's safe."

"Safe?" he asked?

She nodded. "Yeah. I, uhm, I don't like wide open spaces or crowds. I don't like being out and about. I, uhm..."

She paused to gauge Gardner's reaction, how he was processing what she was saying. Whether he was mentally laughing at her or actually trying to comprehend what she was telling him. His open visage seemed to convey a lack of judgment, so she continued.

"I have this thing, it's a condition. It's called agoraphobia. It means..."

Gardner interrupted her. "You get anxious when you're around people. You get freaked out by large gatherings and strange places."

She gave a sigh of relief. He got it. "Yeah. Well, I pretty much don't like any place that isn't my home, and I'm not really comfortable around anyone but my own little circle, like my family."

Gardner had been leaning in towards her, listening intently. When he heard her say this, he gasped and fell back in his chair. "Wow!"

She mistook his meaning. "You think I'm a freak, right?"

"No, no, no! I can really relate to some of that!"

Her mouth twisted into a wry, skeptical smile. "You can? But you're not agoraphobic, right?"

"No. I actually love open spaces. I love walking around outside, sitting by the lake, and sailing. And I even hope someday to explore more places I haven't seen. It's more what you said about only feeling comfortable around your own circle. And yeah, I really don't feel comfortable with new situations and places."

She smiled wistfully. "Wow, well, you're lucky. You sound like you've got a fighting chance for a normal life. I've got panic disorder on top of everything else. As you've seen." She blushed and cast her eyes down, twisting and entangling her fingers together.

Gardner said "Hey now, don't feel bad. I got pretty sweaty at the prospect of having to introduce myself to the class."

She looked up at him and gave him a tentative smile. "Really? I didn't notice. But then again, I guess I was so far out of it I wouldn't have noticed anything. When I get that way, I'm in a very dark and lonely place."

Gardner felt like he ought to try to counterbalance the conversation with something more positive. "But hey, I've heard you chatting with the person sitting near you, and you're talking to me now. So you're not really afraid of people."

"No, not individually. I find it actually really helpful when I'm out and about to talk to one person and kind of focus on the conversation. It helps the rest of what's around me disappear and it sort of makes me forget how exposed I am. It's just the totality of the situation that scares me. The fact that there's a group of people around me, that I'm not in my safe place. I mean, there's nothing really rational about it if you think about it. Just like any other phobia."

"So you like people? You're not shy?"

She grinned. "Yes, I like people, and no, I'm not shy. That's such a misconception about people who are introverts and people with agoraphobia. It's not that we don't like people or that we necessarily aren't good conversationalists, it's just that people are just so damned _exhausting_. I can feel them sucking the energy out of me and it takes so much mental gymnastics to be around them. I just have to really limit the amount and type of interaction I have with them."

Gardner thought to himself _'Ding ding ding! Winner winner, chicken dinner! This girl gets it!'_ Could it be that he had met the female version of himself?

By now the class had filled up and the professor was ready to start the lecture. As discussion turned to _Pride and Prejudice_ and Jane Austen's use of satire in the character of Lizzy Bennet's suiter, the pompous, ignorant, brownnosing clergyman Mr. Collins, Gardner's mind drifted off into thought detours that always cul-de-sac'ed at Flower Girl. When he heard the class laughing, presumably at something funny about the vicar's ridiculous ass-kissing antics with Lady Catherine, he realized his mind had been wandering. He scolded himself for squandering this rich educational opportunity of which he was supposed to be availing himself. He determined to buckle down and shoo the thoughts of Flower Girl from his mind, though her lilac scent tickled his consciousness and made it hard for him to follow through on his pledge.

When class was over, it took him by surprise that he seemed to have missed most of the lecture, and he chided himself for his inattentiveness. He was mortified that he had spent most of it daydreaming about the girl sitting next to him. He decided that his chance at an education and the knowledge that was being offered to him was not worth squandering over the temptation for helping this this beautiful, fragile young woman. He would stick to his plans and apply himself to his studies. Keep to his route, in post-office speak.

He took exaggerated care in packing up his belongings so that he didn't have to make eye contact with Flower Girl and engage in any further conversation. Plus, he knew that based on the previous two classes, she'd be dying to flee the scene. Within a moment, he could hear her murmuring frantically "'Scuse me, excuse me, pardon me," as she pushed past the others sitting in their row. As her voice grew fainter, he chanced a glance up at her and watched her make her way out of the room, head tucked into the crook of her arm, as if to ward off stormy weather or a grave threat to her safety. She eventually made it to the door and then bolted into a fast trot out the door.

Now that he understood the reason the reason for this odd pantomime, it scratched his curiosity itch, but it did not satisfy him. He had a nagging sense that he ought to do something to help her. Then he remembered his blank notebook page and that he had written down virtually nothing to memorialize the teacher's lecture, and it affirmed for him that his priority must be to immerse himself totally in this class. He tried to rationalize that he didn't have a huge bandwidth for other people's problems or even other people period. No, school was his priority. He'd stick to his route.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, give kudos and let a friend know that this story exists. I'd like to know who is reading this story and it's a pleasure to interact with you. Thanks for reading


	3. Chapter 3

Gardner decided that although he’d get to school early, he’d wait for class to begin somewhere other than at his desk. He knew now that Flower Girl would inevitably be seated at her desk, and there would be no polite way to avoid conversation with her otherwise. So he started timing his entry into the classroom right at the commencement of the class. True, this messed with his sense of responsibility, punctuality and homeostasis, but it was better than getting thrown off track by temptation. 

The next Tuesday, he came dashing in to class just as the professor started lecturing. He felt sweaty, uncomfortable and rushed. It took him a few minutes to unpack his gear, line it up, settle down, and start listening to the professor. Even after he tried to train his mind on the lecturer’s question about _Pride and Prejudice_ , of whether it was better to marry for pragmatic reasons such as a secure social position or to avoid dying of destitution or to stay a spinster rather than marry without love, he couldn’t keep his mind from drifting towards the woman sitting next to him and the yearnings he had for her. 

“What do you think is more important in a marriage, Mr. Langway? Material security and stability or romantic love?” the teacher asked.

Gardner was shocked out of his reverie, not expecting to be called upon to comment on the one topic he felt least qualified to judge. He flipped his pen nervously and played for time. “Uhhhhm, well, that is, I guess… D-do you mean terms of the story or in my own life?”

The class laughed as if Gardner was a standup comedian. They seemed very entertained by what they thought was a witticism on his part. Gardner exhaled a breath of relief, feeling he’d dodged a bullet, considering he really was at a loss and was actually expressing genuine befuddlement.

The professor said “Well, I’m not going to pry into your love life, Mr. Langway, so let’s just keep the conversation confined to _Pride and Prejudice_.”

He responded “I think Lizzy was right to hold out against Mr. Collins’s proposal. He’s not worthy of her and she’d have been miserable with him. Even if it would have allowed her family to stay in their home when her father died and Mr. Collins inherited it. He’s an awful person and it would have been too high a price for her to pay. Her friend Charlotte only married him so that she could move out of her parents’ house and not die an old maid, and now she does everything she can to avoid speaking to him during the day because she dislikes him so much. That sounds like a nightmare to me. I’d always rather be alone than in miserable company.”

“So you don’t think being alone or lonely is per se a condition of misery?” the teacher asked.

“No, I don’t. I do think that letting someone into your life who’s not suited for you or who’s going to hurt you is a lot worse,” he said succinctly.

The teacher nodded her head and posited a question to another student. Gardner gave a sigh of relief that his time in the spotlight was over and that he seemed not to have made a fool of himself. Suddenly, a hand crept into his peripheral vision and scrawled something on his notebook page.

_‘I agree.’_

He followed the hand back to Flower Girl’s lap and looked up to her eyes. She gave him a smile and a quick wink and then directed her attention back down to her own notebook. Apparently, she was old school too and either didn’t enjoy using a computer or, like Gardner, couldn’t afford one. He noted this with favorable approval. 

Gardner stuck to his guns and avoided speaking with Flower Girl when the class ended. He knew he only needed a few moments to wait her out before her anxiety would overtake her and she would need to evacuate the classroom. He felt guilty exploiting that weakness of hers, but he reasoned that it was for the best. Sure enough, after he took a few long moments to meticulously pack up all his belongings, she had left. 

At the next class, Gardner repeated his new routine, though he timed it a bit better so that he wasn’t cutting it so close that he was flustered. He tried to be nonchalant about his arrival, as if it was no big deal that he was now arriving too late to converse with Flower Girl. He also tried very hard not to look at her, but he felt bad that she might realize he was shunning her, so he decided to incorporate a small head bob greeting into his repertoire. No harm in that, right?

Big mistake. He could see the hurt in her eyes. She had his number. She knew what he was up to. She could tell he was avoiding her. Maybe she didn’t know why, but she recognized the signs. In exchange for his nodding greeting, he received a tight-lipped quirk of the lips that wasn’t even half a smile – more of a grimace – and then Flower Girl averted her eyes again. He knew that that was more than he deserved. 

When class was over, she didn’t even look at him. He noticed that she had already gathered up her belongings before the teacher was finished with her lecture and had her hand on the strap of her bag, ready to bolt. As soon as the lecture was over, she was out of her seat like a shot and was making for the door. 

Gardner just sat in his seat staring at the desk in front of him, his cheeks burning with shame. He felt like a real jerk. She had trusted him with some really personal information about herself and he had abused it. She feared he wouldn’t want to be her friend because she was a freak, and now she was misinterpreting his signals accordingly.

After his shift at Good Time, Gardner was sitting out on the porch with Calvin, drinking beers and looking up at the stars. He decided to tell him about Flower Girl and see what he made of the situation. Even though Calvin could be a little, shall was say, _overenthusiastic_ about situations involving the opposite sex, he sometimes did have some halfway decent advice to give, and at least he always offered a sympathetic ear.

“Calvin, do you think it’s possible to be friends with a woman without being romantically involved or losing yourself in the process?” he asked.

Calvin leaned in and said “Oooooh, give me the dirt? Are we talking hypothetically, or do you have your eyes on someone?”

Gardner hedged. “Can we just talk hypothetically for now?”

Calvin wasn’t buying it. “Why? Are you trying to keep secrets from me? Don’t you think you can trust me? I am OH-ffended, my bruthah!” 

With a sigh, Gardner said “Okay, I do have someone specific in mind, but I just want to talk in the abstract. The details don’t matter. I just want to know what you think. What if you care about a woman as a person and you think you could be a positive influence in their life, but you have important goals in your own life and you think getting romantically involved might detract from them?”

Calvin looked bewildered. “So, what, is this woman throwing herself at you and keeping you up at night?”

Gardner groaned. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s more like, it’s in my own head that’s the problem. I can’t seem to shut down that part of me that really wants her, and concentrate on the things that I ought to be focusing on, like school. I mean, what am I, a cave man? Why can’t I see a beautiful woman who also happens to be a nice person who I’d like to get to know and be a good friend to her and not get the two things confused?”

Calvin barked out a laugh. “What do you think you are, Gardner, an android? That’s just human nature! I mean, I’m not going to say that every time you see a beautiful woman you have to want to woo her, but isn’t it a good thing that you’ve met a beautiful woman you’re attracted to who you also seem to really care about? Why is that a negative?”

Gardner sprang out of his chair and started pacing around. “Because I have important goals to fulfill, and promises to myself to keep! I’m finally getting my life on track after almost getting ground into dust by my parents, and then Paige, and then my boss at the post office. I thought I would never come back from that kind of devastation. But I did! I have a good job that makes me feel really useful and good about myself. Those kids at the arcade look up to me and they bring out a side of me that I never even knew existed. And going to college is the ticket to my future. It’s an opportunity I can’t afford to blow. I can’t let myself be distracted.”

Calvin said “Well I thought part of the college experience was making friends and having fun and joining in with extracurricular activities and meeting chicks. It’s not just about classes and what you learn in the books, y’know.” 

Gardner scoffed “What do you know about college?”

Calvin sniffed, offended. “Hey, I’ve seen _Pitch Perfect_ 1 through 3, _Animal House_ , _Back To School_ , _Revenge of the Nerds_ …”

Gardner just rolled his eyes.

Come the next class, when Gardner sat down at his seat and decided to at least greet Flower Girl civilly, she gave him the neutral, somewhat dismissive head bob treatment he had invented for her the previous week. Then she shifted her gaze back down to the desk and fidgeted with her belongings until the class got underway. That didn’t sit well with Gardner, but then again, he felt it was exactly what he deserved. 

He didn’t get a chance to make amends, however, because after the class was over, Flower Girl turned to the woman to her left and engaged her in conversation. To his surprise, they rose and walked together across the room to join a guy who was waving them over, then they all left the lecture hall together. Flower Girl was looking at the floor and holding on to the sleeve of the woman, who seemed to be acting like a guide dog for her, making sure she safely exited the room and didn’t bump into anyone. Gardner watched as they disappeared from his sight.

So it seemed like Flower Girl had managed to make some friends and was probably going out for coffee or lunch or maybe to study together. Gardner had warring emotions vying for primacy in his heart. He felt jealous that it wasn’t he who was escorting her out of the room bound for a quiet tête-à-tête between the two of them. On the other hand, he was proud of her for summoning up the courage to make other new friends and trusting them to take her on some sort of social outing. He didn’t much like the fact that one of them was a guy, particularly as the guy had been what Gardner would classify as superficially handsome. 

This turn of events had Gardner rethinking his philosophy about seizing opportunities and what making the most out of his college experience really meant. His mind drifted back to the conversation he and Calvin had had about how college was meant to be a well-rounded experience, not just an academic one. And of course, the pang of longing he felt for a romantic partner pricked at his core in a visceral, primal way that he couldn’t ignore. 

He was starting to wonder if maybe he had made a miscalculation. He decided he needed more input from someone far wiser than Calvin. He decided to drop by his friend Trudie’s house on the way home.

Trudie was a woman of a certain age, as she liked to phrase it, though if pressed Gardner would admit he knew she was at least old enough to receive mail from AARP and letters regularly from the Social Security Administration. She had borne witness to the Paige debacle from start to finish, acting as his sage counsel and chief comforter through it all. She had the chops for advising him on the subject of love. After all, she had been married three times, though Gardner wasn’t convinced she deserved credit for the last marriage, which had only lasted six days. On the other hand, she did say it was her best marriage, and who can say quantity trumps quality? Gardner had only dated Paige for a few days, and according to Paige, they had never really been dating at all.

He found Trudie in her garden as usual, tending to her chili peppers. 

“Hey, kid!” she summoned him over, waving her garden-gloved hand at him. “My peppers are hot and ripe for the pluckin’! That’s somethin’ we got in common.” She let loose with her joyous, bawdy laugh which even though it embarrassed him, Gardner couldn’t resist receiving with a twitch of a smile. Noticing his pensive mood as he paced around her lawn, she asked “Uh oh, what’s got your panties in a bunch? Someone pluggin’ wooden nickels into those arcade games of yours? Some asshole beat your high score on your favorite video game and finally replace your initials at the top?” She snorted with amused and gentle heckling.

He walked over to her porch and pulled out his usual lawn chair, set it up beside hers and plunked his bottom down in it. “Nah, things are okay at the arcade. The kids are doing pretty well. And for your information, I still have the high score on _all_ the games.”

Trudie lengthened her jaw and stroked it to indicate she was impressed. “So what’s got you bothered then? I can tell something’s eating you. I’ve seen that look before, so don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

Gardner shivered a little at the prospect that Trudie could actually read his mind and already knew what he was going to consult her about, but then dismissed the possibility from his mind. Trudie couldn’t actually be psychic, could she? No, but maybe she just knew her friend really, really well. That wasn’t a bad thing, though he would really prefer he could maintain a more stoic countenance and not wear his heart on his sleeve so much.

“I wanted to ask you about a situation at school. I’ve met a woman who sits next to me in class who I like and think I’ve started caring about. She told me some really personal things about herself, like weaknesses and flaws, and she was really open about them. I could kind of relate to them and felt like there was a connection there. I even felt like I could help her with them, or maybe we could help each other. But then while the class was going on, all I could think about was her and I wasn’t paying any attention to the lecture and I realized that school is way more important than making a connection with this woman. So I started dodging her and ignoring her and she picked up on it and I can tell I’ve hurt her feelings and now she’s blowing me off and avoiding me.”

Trudie didn’t say anything, just waited for Gardner to pose his question.

“So I’m wondering now whether I made a mistake. Because I really do want someday to find a woman to love and cherish, and maybe she could be that someone or at the very least be a friend, though it’s obviously too early to tell. I mean, she could have all sorts of annoying qualities and habits. I’ve only talked to her really briefly, and you can’t judge by one conversation of course. I mean, she could be a serial killer for all I know, or maybe at least she’s a total slob or listens to death metal music or watches reality TV…” He shuddered at the myriad disqualifying possibilities. 

Trudie interrupted him “Okay, I get the point. You’d need to court her properly to figure out if she’s really the girl for you. But Gardner, every great love starts with the spark of attraction, and it sounds like you’ve experienced the spark. That’s a positive, not a negative. Get over it, deal with it.”

He signed. “Yeah, I felt it. Right here,” he gestured to his belly. “And here,” he laid his hand over his heart. “And even here,” he pointed to his head. “It kind of all makes sense except for one thing. I don’t want to give up my dreams of making something of myself and finding what I’m seeking in these classes. This is the first good thing I’ve ever done for myself. I deserve to get the most out of it as I can. I don’t know where it will lead, but if I half-ass it, I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

Trudie said “Ever hear of multi-tasking and discipline? Kid, you are not some hormonal teenager who can’t control his impulses. You’re twenty-five fucking years old! Now I know that you have had some arrested development because of your, shall we say, family circumstances not of your own making.” She took a moment to give a middle finger to the horizon and then to the sky, signifying how she felt about Gardner’s absent parents and God, who let them abandon him with no adverse consequences. “Surely you are capable of attending classes and dating at the same time. You just have to adjust to the idea and get yourself a new set of rules to live by. You’re all about rules. Train your mind to put first things first while the lecture’s going on and tell your brain that it will get its reward by talking to her as much as it wants once the class is over.”

Gardner looked skeptical. “I’m not sure if I can do that. She’s just so distracting. She sits next to me and wears this lilac perfume and it’s like it hypnotizes me.”

“Can’t you change your seat and sit somewhere else?”

He shook his head in the negative. “No, our seats are assigned for the duration.”

“Well shit, Gardner, maybe you ought to masturbate more often or somethin’! Maybe do it right before class.”

Gardner sprang from his chair and flung up his hands. “Okay, this conversation’s over. Good talk.” He sprinted from the garden with the echo of Trudie’s cackling ringing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, give kudos and let a friend know that this story exists. I'd like to know who is reading this story and it's a pleasure to interact with you. Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday mornings were Gardner's least favorite day of the week. He had an eight a.m. astronomy class and then time to kill before his late shift at Good Time. That made for a long day. He decided that today he'd spend some time exploring the campus, rather than returning home to his boat after class as he usually did. The weather was glorious and there were so many inviting places to sit with his stack of books and study. He figured he'd have a good stroll around in search of the perfect study spot.

His quest became more challenging than he anticipated. Everywhere he looked, there were crowds and clumps of people. The university had thoughtfully provided colorful plastic Adirondack chairs for lounging, but they were all full. Sitting against a tree was also not necessarily an option since many of them had slacklines strung upon them, with students trying their hand at balancing on them and falling to the cushioned grass with laughter. Monday was the day for the farmer's market to invade the campus, and there was a general hubbub of commerce and music emanating from just about everywhere he turned.

Getting frustrated, Gardner detoured behind the big library building and headed for what looked to be a secluded garden designed with a Zen Japanese theme. There were maroon-colored acer maples, weeping willows and topiary trees. A small manmade pond contained a fountain trickling with water, with rock formations surrounding it. Azalea plants were in bloom dotted around the garden, in colors ranging from white to pale and shocking pink. Underfoot lay gravel made of grey slated stone that glinted with silver, and then there was a section of sand that had been carefully raked into an undulating pattern. Benches dotted the garden here and there. It seemed like a strange but welcome oasis amidst the hubbub of campus life.

After strolling around for a few minutes, Gardner spotted a lone figure sitting on a bench, hunched over a book. It was Flower Girl. His first impulse was to retreat, both from a desire not to invade her privacy and also from sheer cowardice.

She was dressed a little more casually than normal today. She had on a pair of grey leggings, a pink tank top of the same stretchy material, and a button-down floral blouse that was open and billowed around her. Gardner couldn't stop his eyes from taking in the swell of her breasts overtopping the low-cut tank top, threatening to spill over. They were pale, with fewer freckles than the rest of her skin he had already seen, gloriously full and round, and probably more than a handful, he mused a bit guiltily.

After debating with himself for a few moments, he decided to sack up and go talk to her. He squared his shoulders and made his way over to her.

Knowing by now that she was easily startled, he made sure he crunched some gravel underfoot to catch her attention. She looked up from her book and initially smiled broadly, then changed her demeanor and looked embarrassed and more tentative.

"Oh!" she said, flustered. "I see you've found my sanctuary."

"Sanctuary?" Gardner inquired. "Do you mean this is a place of escape and safekeeping, or is it a sacred space?"

She mulled this over and replied "Probably both. It does seem to have the look of an outdoor temple, and so much of nature's perfection strikes me as being divine. But no, I meant it's a place where I come to feel safe. It's my hideaway."

Gardner suddenly felt uncertain about whether his presence was welcome not only because he felt he was in a hole with her for the way he'd mistreated her, but he certainly didn't want to invade her privacy. He turned to leave. "I'm sorry, I can just – "

"No! You can, I mean, you should stay. This garden is for everyone, not just the serious head cases." Her tone was a mix of self-deprecating sarcasm and bitterness.

He gestured to the wooden bench she was sitting on. "Do you mind if I sit down?"

"No, help yourself."

He lowered himself gingerly so as not to brush up against her. He sat facing forward, not looking at her. He just couldn't face her, but he could at least speak.

"You're not a head case," he reassured her.

"Oh, really? Well there must be something about me that's repelling you, so I figured it's because you thought I'm really messed up in the head. I've got no shame in my game, I myself don't think I'm a freak. I know agoraphobia and panic disorder is a health issue, not a moral issue, but not everyone sees it that way. Mental health isn't a topic most people can deal with. It's a turnoff." She paused and said "I figured that's why you stopped talking to me."

Gardner sighed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

"See what I mean?" she said. "You won't even look at me. It must be like meeting the bearded lady at the circus. You look once out of curiosity and then you want to just run away out of revulsion at what you've seen. I know I'm not like anyone you've ever met and I make you uncomfortable."

She waited a beat but he still said nothing. Finally she said "It's okay. I get it. I usually don't bother letting people in so I can avoid awkward, hurtful situations like this. I just thought, since you were the one who reached out to me, that you would be different." She rose from the bench and started to put her book and other things back in her bag. "I'm just going to go now. Hey, no judgment on my end. I had a friend who used to tell me never to expect anything and that way if anything good did come my way, I'd be pleasantly surprised. I guess I just jumped the gun. Sorry about that. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. I'm going to ask the professor to let me change seats."

She started to walk away. Gardner was peering at her receding figure knowing what he needed to do, but not knowing how to do it. He needed to stop her, to say something, to turn things around. But how?

"Peas!" he blurted out.

She stopped and turned around.

"Birds!" he continued.

"Excuse me?" she asked, completely mystified.

"Cloth!" he babbled on.

She walked back to him and sat down on the bench again.

"Okay, you got me. Now I have to know what the heck you're spouting off about."

Gardner sighed with relief. He was embarrassed, but he'd accomplished what he set out to do. She was back, she was here, and she was willing to hear him out.

"What do those things have in common?" he asked her.

She pursed her lips and gave it some thought. Then she shook her head and said "For the life of me, I just don't have any idea where you're going with that, Gardner."

He smiled as if he had a secret. "Well, I'll give you a hint. They're all parts of proverbs. Sayings, you know?"

She thought it over some more and said "Okay, so there's a proverb about 'two peas in a pod'."

"Right!" he cried. "Good! Okay, go on."

"And there's the one about 'birds of a feather flock together', right?"

"Yeah, you got it! What's the last one?"

She puzzled over it for a couple of minutes, but she finally threw up her hands and said "I give up, I can't think of it."

He said "I'll give you a hint. It's more of an expression, and it means the same thing as the other two."

She said "Well that's no fair, you changed the rules."

Gardner shrugged his shoulders and said "So sue me! Come on, you're clever. You're gonna get it. Think about the other two and you'll get the one about the cloth."

She furrowed her eyebrows and closed her eyes in concentration. A minute passed and then a smile broke out on her face. "I know, it's 'cut from the same cloth', right?"

Gardner threw up his arms and cheered "Yeah!!! You're amazing!!! You got all three."

Flower Girl said "So why are you quizzing me about proverbs and metaphors? What does that have to do with what we were discussing?"

Gardner said "I'm taking a really roundabout way of telling you that I could never think you are a freak or dislike you or not want to be your friend, because I'm a lot like you. We have a lot in common. We're like two peas in a pod, we're birds of a feather, we're cut from the same cloth."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise and she smiled with pleasure. "We are? You're a head case too? I mean, sorry, that's not what I meant to say. I meant to say, you've got some of the same issues that I do?"

Gardner nodded vigorously. "I may not have the exact same hangups, but our inner struggles are pretty similar, and the challenges you face are ones I definitely have faced myself. I feel like I may be a bit further down the road than you are in terms of healing from those issues, but I still deal with them on a daily basis and I can relate so much to everything you told me about yourself because it all reminds me of myself."

She looked a bit dazed and uncertain. "Then why did you start ignoring me? You stopped talking to me, acting like I wasn't there. That was very cruel, especially if you know what it's like to have the kind of baggage I have and how hard it is to open up to someone about it."

Remorse and guilt tore through Gardner's chest and he wanted to throw himself at her feet. "I know, it was an awful thing to do. Just know that you can chalk it up to me and my own issues. I'm a messed up person, too. I made a mistake and I misjudged the situation. I am so, so sorry, Flower Girl."

Her jaw dropped open and a squeak of amusement escaped. "Flower Girl? Is that what you call me?"

Gardner wanted to smack himself in the chops for that slip of the tongue. How embarrassing! "Sorry, I mean, Leah."

"Why do you call me Flower Girl?"

"Uhm, well, it's kind of embarrassing. It's mainly because you wear this perfume that smells like lilacs, but also you're always wearing something with flowers on it."

She smiled with comprehension. "That's essential oil scented with lilac that I wear. It's my favorite smell and they're my favorite flowers. But I love all flowers, which I see you've noticed." She giggled and fumbled with her shirt.

Gardner agreed "I love lilacs, too. The smell of your perfume reminds me of my old postal route. There's this one street that has lilac bushes in front of nearly every house."

"You were a postman?"

Gardner nodded. "Yep. For almost seven years. Did you know the average U.S. mail carrier walks about 9.6 miles a day and that over the course of a full career he will walk around the world approximately five times? I was working on my first trip around the world when I, uhm, stopped working there. I delivered an average of 1,833 pieces of mail to 300 households every day."

"Wow, that's impressive. It sounds like you loved your job and did it really well. You must have been very dedicated. I can hear it in your voice."

"I was," Gardner said simply, appreciating that Flower Girl didn't mock him or denigrate his former profession, unlike a certain ex-girlfriend (or whatever she was).

"And now you're in school, getting an education and trying to better yourself. That's impressive, too."

If Gardner could have ordered up a more sympathetic, understanding, supportive woman, he'd have had to have built her himself, like the geeky kids did in that 80s movie Weird Science that Calvin had made him watch last weekend.

"Yeah, I'm really serious about getting an education. I think it's the key to my future. But see, that's where I messed up with you, Flow— I mean Leah."

"You can call me Flower Girl if you want," she tittered with amusement.

"No, no, that's okay. But if you don't mind, that's how I'll think of you," he smiled at her.

"Okay," she nodded.

"Anyway, that's where I really got caught up in my mind and tripped over my own two feet. After you and I talked that first time, I got so preoccupied that I was worried that I wasn't paying attention in class. All I could think about was – ."

He paused, embarrassed. He knew he had to tell her or she'd never understand. But why, oh why was it so hard to lay himself bare to a woman again? Because he was afraid of getting hurt. Afraid he was jumping the gun. Afraid he'd be disappointed or laughed at and humiliated. He decided that it didn't matter. Even if she utterly rejected him, he had hurt her feelings and he owed it to her to be honest.

"All I could think about was you," he said quietly.

"Oh," was all Flower Girl responded.

Taking this as a sign to continue and not as discouragement, Gardner continued to explain.

"I thought about the things you told me about yourself, and how maybe I might be able help you. And I thought that maybe you might even be able to help me with some of my, uh, issues. I thought maybe we could be friends, or maybe you might even want to go on a date with me?" His rising inflection left the last question as a proposal, a possibility, almost a prayer.

She responded "Well since you cut yourself off from me you've clearly changed your mind and don't want to go out with me anymore, right? I mean, at least I understand now. I don't want to keep you from your studies, Gardner. That's just too damned important! It's everything in this world for you to get where you're going, and I respect the hell out of you for that. So I appreciate your honesty and I thank you for letting me know that I'm not repulsive to you and it's just a matter of priorities. Do you think maybe I ought to get my seat moved so I won't distract you?"

'No, no, no! This conversation is NOT going in the right direction!' Gardner was screaming internally. Here was this marvelous girl, forgiving him for blowing her off and hurting her feelings, and accepting his explanation with unconditional, magnanimous good will. Instead of pushing him to do something that might go against his grain or jeopardize his studies, she was now offering to sacrifice the chance for something to happen between them so that he could focus on his studies, to stick to his route.

He looked into her eyes, so guileless and gentle, waiting to hear what he thought she ought to do to best serve his interests. There was a kick in the seat of his pants! At first he had wanted to be her savior, and now she wanted to be his!

"Oh, uh, that's not necessary, Leah. I think we've kind of cleared the air here, I hope. You can stay where you are. I talked it over with some people in my life and they said I need to be open to experiencing more of college life than just academics. And, uh, my one friend said I should uh, just do more to prepare better before class."

Flower Girl had no idea what this alluded to, thank God, but Gardner couldn't help but blush at the thought of masturbating to off-gas some of the pent-up tension he was feeling when he sat next to her during lectures.

"Okay, well, if you really don't mind my sitting next to you, I'll stay."

"Yes. I think you should stay."

"Okay, then I guess that's that. But I promise I'll make sure not to bug you and you just let me know if I get in your way. I want you to make your dreams come true, Gardner."

He smiled at her, truly grateful for her generous nature. "Thank you, Leah. But let's not forget about what my friends told me. About the uhm, extracurricular part of school I'm supposed to experience. You're a sophomore – do you know what they're talking about? They said there are activities to do and that I ought to do them with other people. Would you maybe want to help me out with that part of my college experience?"

Flower Girl looked horrified. Gardner interpreted that as her not wanting to socialize with him outside of the classroom. He stammered quickly "Oh, sorry, I can see you aren't too keen on spending time with me, I can tell by the look on your face."

She hastened to reassure him "No, no, it's not you, Gardner, god no! I'd really like to spend time with you. It's just that, well, it's the thought of doing things and social activities, that's what makes my skin itch! It's the agoraphobic in me that's reacting. I mean, that sounds pretty scary."

Gardner sighed with relief. "Oh, okay. I thought maybe you just didn't want to hang out with me. Well, what if we kind of help each other? You can help me figure out the social aspect of this college gig, and I could help you get used to being out and about. I mean, we don't have to go crazy and do things that are super-crowded, and we can ease into it. And if you get really freaked out, we can just leave right away. What do you think?"

She gave him a skeptical look but she didn't look entirely closed down. "Yeah, I guess we could give it a try. My therapist is always trying to get me to do exposure therapy, where I go out and do uncomfortable things kind of gradually, but I've always refused. Maybe if I were with someone who understood what it was all about and who was patient and sympathetic, I might be okay with that."

Gardner felt his ears prick up at this. Now he had a chance to be really useful. Setting aside his libido, he found his feet on more solid ground.

She offered more of an opening. "I did try to make a start already. I went out the other day with a couple of people from our class. We went and had coffee at a café that had outdoor seating so I didn't have to be in a really crowded, closed room."

Gardner muttered "Yeah, I saw you leave with them," unable to keep a measure of jealousy out of his voice.

She gave him an enigmatic look, her lips twitching in a half smile, attempting not to react but not entirely succeeding.

"Anyway, maybe we can all do something together sometime," she suggested.

Gardner groaned inwardly. This definitely wasn't what he had in mind. He had hoped to get her alone, all to himself. But he'd take what he could get.

"Yeah, that would be fine," he said.

"It's good to make new friends, or that's what my therapist says. And if you want to know what the typical college experience is about, then that's definitely a part of it."

"Okay. That sounds good," he conceded.

"Great! Okay. Let's see if they're up for going out after our next class. Sound good?"

Gardner said "Sure. Sounds great," hoping that maybe they'd both be busy and he'd get to take Flower Girl out on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, give kudos and let a friend know that this story exists. I'd like to know who is reading this story and it's a pleasure to interact with you. Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

Gardner left Flower Girl to continue reading her book in the Japanese garden. He got some lunch and then continued exploring the campus, bird dogging spots he might take her to that wouldn't be too crowded. Eventually, he left for his shift at the Good Time Bar and Arcade. When he strolled up, he spotted a disheveled kid with sandy brown hair leaning up against the building with his arms crossed, looking disgruntled. He called to him to get his attention.

"Hey, Rufus, what're you doing outside? Did you get the heave ho?"

The boy looked up and, spotting Gardner, immediately tried to conceal the traces of tears and distress that accompanied his frustration and anger.

"Hmph!" was all he could manage to say.

Gardner put his hand on the boy's shoulder. He leaned down to get eye level with him. "Who was it this time giving you the blues?"

Rufus turned his head away from Gardner, as if he were refusing a spoonful of cod liver oil.

"Not gonna tell me?"

Rufus shook his head no.

"Come on, you might as well. Cuz you know I'm gonna find out anyway. One of the other kids is going to give me the whole story. Might as well tell me your side of it."

Rufus's resolve started to crumble.

Gardner rubbed his shoulder with his hand gently. "I won't narc on you to your family, Rufus. This is just between you and me. I just want to make sure nobody's getting out of hand in our clubhouse and hurting one of my guys, right?"

Rufus nodded.

"So what happened? Did someone hurt you or did you hurt someone?"

Rufus huffed "I didn't hurt anybody! It was that asshole Brett! He tried to steal my game! He's always doing that to the smaller, younger kids! Waits until you slot your money in, then pushes you out of the way and plays your turn. Well today I just got fed up with it and I pushed him back out of the way."

Gardner gave him a cool, assessing look and asked "Didja hurt him?"

Rufus said "Nah, I didn't hurt him! Just made him fall on his ass! Then I started to play my game! But you know old Hendrickson. He comes steaming over to me and starts yelling 'I'll have no fisticuffs in my arcade young man!' and kicks me out! So here I am now, waiting for my big sister to pick me up on the way home from cheerleading practice. I still got another hour and a half to wait. An hour and a half I was supposed to have to myself that that asshole Brett stole from me, having fun playing games."

Gardner knew that Rufus's home life was sub-par at best. His divorced alcoholic mother mostly farmed out her parenting duties to his older sister. Typically of her age and maturity level, his sister saw him mainly as a pain in the neck and an obstacle to becoming the most popular girl at the local high school. She was constantly rushing between activities and social outings, and most of the time Rufus had to find his own way home from school and wait for his sister to come home and make him dinner. On many nights she would come home until very late and he'd have to get his own dinner or just do without it.

The only time Rufus was ever really happy was when he was allowed to go to Good Time. His sister would bribe him from time to time not to tattle on her for shirking her "parenting" duties by giving him a roll of quarters and a couple of hours to kill at the arcade while she was busy.

Gardner straightened up and patted his shoulder. "Okay, buddy. Let me see what I can do." He went inside to have a word with Mr. Hendrickson, the owner of the bar and arcade.

"Hi, Mr. Hendrickson. I hear there was some trouble with one of the big kids bullying a smaller kid."

The owner said "Huh? That's not what I saw. I saw that little shit pushing that bigger kid down on the ground."

Gardner said "Yeah, I spoke to Rufus, the smaller kid, about it. He told me about what happened. Turns out that's not the whole story. Turns out that bigger kid Brett's running a racket where he's stealing the smaller kids' games from them. I'm sure you realize that's bad for business if the kids are all getting bullied and intimidated. We gotta cut that weed off at the root, don'tcha think? I think maybe we ought to suspend Brett's gaming privileges for a little while and invite Rufus back into the arcade to show the other kids that this is a safe space for them. We need their business a whole lot more than Brett's right?"

Mr. Hendrickson ran his hands over his five o'clock shadow thoughtfully and said "You might have something there, Gardner. I can see now I wasn't dealing with the full set of facts. And you're right to view it based on market forces. That's what it's all about after all, keeping the customers happy and making my business a success."

Gardner said "Right. I'm all about making this place a success."

"Okay, Gardner. Rufus can come back in. But you tell that little pissant I won't tolerate any fisticuffs. If he has a problem with another kid, he should come to me or you or another adult."

"Right, Sir. I'll be sure to tell him that. That's the only proper way to handle these things."

Gardner turned and walked away, trying his best not to crack up at the idea that he had actually sold his boss on the idea that his anti-bullying campaign was really a capitalist Trojan horse. He went back outside to fetch Rufus, who was pacing nervously in anticipation.

"Okay, Rufus. You can come back in. But from now on, if someone messes with you, henceforth you are not allowed to retaliate physically. You need to let an adult intervene on your behalf, you hear? Let someone else take the heat for you, look out for you. It's bad enough that you don't have that in your home life. You may as well take advantage of having that luxury while you're here, right?"

A lightbulb seemed to appear over Rufus's head and a whole new concept seemed to dawn on him. Somebody had his back for once and was willing to step up for him.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Gardner." He dried the remaining tears and snot off his face and fell into line behind Gardner, prepared to enjoy the rest of his precious time at Gardner's clubhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, give kudos and let a friend know that this story exists. I'd like to know who is reading this story and it's a pleasure to interact with you. Thanks for reading.


	6. Chapter 6

After Literature class the next day, Gardner lingered in his seat, watching Flower Girl speaking with the woman sitting at the desk next to her. She nodded and said "That could be okay. Let me ask Gardner." She turned to him and asked "Gardner, would you be up for going out for coffee with Eve and another friend?"

Gardner tried to contain his excitement and just play it cool. "Y-yeah, sure, that, that would be fine."

"Great. Let me introduce you. This is Eve."

The woman next to her reached across Flower Girl's desk and extended her hand. "Hi, Gardner. Nice to meet you."

She had long black hair that fell in loose curls below her shoulders, skin the color of latte, and honey brown eyes. Her beauty was superficially dazzling, but something about it alarmed Gardner. There was a pinched aspect to her smile that didn't reach her eyes, which were very shrewd and penetrating, as if they were sizing him up and devouring him. She clung to his hand and gave it a squeeze that seemed to him slightly inappropriate and somewhat predatory. He withdrew his hand uncomfortably and wiped it on his pants discretely.

"Y-yeah, hi, nice to meet you. Well, shall we go?"

Eve said "Oh, well, we have to wait for Leah's boyfriend."

Flower Girl glared at her and admonished her. "Eve, that's totally out of line! Derek is _not_ my boyfriend. I hardly even know him."

Eve rolled her eyes and huffed "The way he looks at you? What- _ever_!" She spotted Derek and waved him over.

A blonde guy approached them. Gardner noticed that Derek was tall and lanky, but he did have some muscular definition, as if he was athletic or worked out or looked after his body purposefully in some fashion. Gardner couldn't help letting his hands stray to his own stomach and poke his soft belly, his self-consciousness rising. That was his literal weak underbelly and it made him feel extremely inferior by comparison. His self-confidence started to take a nosedive until Flower Girl raised him from his funk.

"You ready, Gardner?" she asked, lightly brushing his elbow with her fingers to capture his attention. His skin tingled where she touched him.

He said "Yeah. I mean, I am." He offered his hand to Derek. "Hi, I'm Gardner."

The tall blonde extended his hand for a firm, friendly handshake and said "Hi, I'm Derek. It's good to meet you. I thought you handled yourself really well the other day with the prof. when she sassed you about your love life."

Gardner laughed. "Thanks. That kind of threw me for a loop for a minute. Don't really have a love life to speak of, so that would have been kind of a challenge."

Derek scoffed. "Come on, you're a good looking guy! And you're smart! You've got a lot to offer. Let's leave the ladies to their gossip for a bit and you can tell me a little more about yourself. I'll figure out which of my other female friends I know who would be the perfect match for you."

Eve butted in "Hey! I heard that! Who says he's not perfect for someone right here?" She batted her eyelashes dramatically, then put her hand on her hip and cocked it aggressively. That was when Gardner noticed her curiously long fake nails.

Derek threw up his hands in surrender and said "Well, excuse me! Didn't' mean to step on your toes, Eve." He stage whispered to Gardner "Better watch your back, dude. What that lady wants, she usually gets!" He chuckled with lighthearted amusement.

Gardner shivered with dread. This coffee get together was turning into a train wreck very quickly. The dynamics were off the rails already. Derek apparently had already scoped out Leah and planted a flag, and Eve was acting like a carnivore who'd was planning to consume Gardner as her _plat du jour_.

When they got to the café, Derek scouted out a table for them on the patio that was a bit removed from the crowds so that Leah would be comfortable. He and Gardner took the girls' orders and went inside to get their drinks. While they were waiting, they chatted about their backgrounds and what they were studying. Derek was a political science major, which he said was also what Leah was studying. He disclosed that they were taking a class on the history of the Civil Rights movement (Gardner filed that tidbit away for future use). They had decided to form a study group with a couple of other students to help Leah with her exposure therapy (this made Gardner's stomach drop to the floor with jealous disappointment).

As Gardner listened to Derek talk while they waited in the voluminous line for drinks, he couldn't help thinking that he really wouldn't mind being friends with Derek if only he weren't a rival for Flower Girl's affections. Derek seemed like a really nice guy.

It occurred to Gardner that Derek obviously didn't see Gardner as any sort of competition. He seemed clueless that there was any rapport between Gardner and Flower Girl, or that Gardner had any "in" to her emotions and affections. Maybe this was just as well, he mused. He could operate by stealth. Many people in his life had underestimated him, yet here he was, thriving now more than ever. He would just have to rely on that innate skill and hope it advantaged him.

They returned to the table with the drinks, and somehow, Eve managed to make sure Gardner was sitting next to her. As soon as he got himself situated, she put her leg up on his lap and made herself at home.

"Uhhhh, Eve," he yelped, "what are you doing?"

"Just making myself comfortable, darlin'," she giggled.

"Oh, uhhh, well," he said, gently removing her leg and setting it back down on the ground, "these are my good pants, I uhm, I need to keep them clean."

Eve initially blushed with embarrassment but then seethed with the sting of rejection. "Oh, well, I didn't realize you could have a pair of dress jeans, Gardner. Sorry about that. I wouldn't want to sully them with my skin cells." She huffed out a half-hearted laugh, but it was clear that she was annoyed and mortified to have been thwarted and rejected out of hand.

"So, Leah, I was telling Gardner about the study group you and I are in," Derek interjected, trying to get the conversation onto a new track. Of course, this just shifted the embarrassment to a different quarter.

Flower Girl's eyes darted to Gardner, assessing his reaction to the news that the guy whom Eve accused of fancying her had just announced they were spending time together regularly and moreover she hadn't mentioned it to Gardner herself. What a disaster! Sure enough, Gardner wasn't looking best pleased. She shifted the focus to the substance of their studies.

"Yes, well, Derek and I are studying politics. My major focus is on interest groups. Power to the people and all that. How communities and movements organize and accomplish change. You know, like how President Obama started out as a community organizer in Chicago and eventually became the president? Well, it's the early part of his career that I'm interested in and those accomplishments."

The conversation finally took off and they all began to discuss what they were studying, what classes they liked, and other neutral topics. It seemed like by acclimation, everyone was glad to diffuse the weirdness that had temporarily settled over the group and reset the tone of the table. After about a half-hour, Gardner noticed that Flower Girl had started to grip the table. It was a replay of that scene that had played itself out previously in class, and he recognized the signs that she had reached her maximum tolerance for the situation. He decided to step up for her and call it quits.

"Well hey, guys, this was really great. Leah, you said you had somewhere you needed to be soon. You want to get going? I can walk you to wherever you're headed next."

She blinked at him, a bit dazed, then realized he was throwing her a lifeline and immediately grasped for it. "Yes! Yes, I need to get to my next, uh, thing. Thanks, Gardner. Yes, please walk with me." She stood up and gave Derek a hug, which caused Gardner's stomach to zip right to his feet. But then she gave Eve a hug and it rebounded back to his midriff. "Bye, guys. See you soon. Well, see you tomorrow for study group, Derek."

Gardner led Flower Girl through the crowds on the patio until they were in a clearing on the quad and then said "Okay, you can look up now. You're safe, you're fine."

Flower Girl exhaled a big breath and flung her arms out in a sign of both relief and victory. "Yeah! I did it!"

Gardner grinned. "You sure did. I'm proud of you. How do you feel now?"

"Farging exhausted," she blurted out, gasping and giggling.

"Okay, fair enough," he chuckled. "Do you want to go home?"

"No, I can't. I have another class in an about hour. Can you take me to my sanctuary?"

Gardner was thrilled at the prospect of a little alone time with her. "Sure. Definitely."

They walked to the Japanese garden and found a bench.

As Gardner was about to sit down, Flower Girl frowned. He looked at her and said "What? Do you not want me here?"

She twisted her fingers uncomfortably and said "Well, don't take this the wrong way, but, uhm, no. Not really. I want to be alone so I can recharge and get my ruffled feathers smooth again. I mean, unless you can promise me I can be alone while you're with me. I've never met a person on earth who knows how to do that. Do you even know what I'm talking about?"

Gardner grinned. "Oh yeah, I know what you mean. Introvert number 1, meet introvert number 2. Or if you want a proverb, it would be Ms. Pot, meet Mr. Kettle." He held out his hand for her to shake. She laughed and took his hand and gave it a squeeze, then gestured for him to sit down.

She gave him a skeptical look for a moment but then took a deep breath and pulled out a journal and pen. Gardner looked away and just focused his attention on the trees and birds. He found himself hypnotized by the beauty of the garden. He wondered whose idea it had been to create it, who had funded it, who had designed and executed it, and who maintained it. He speculated about what plants bloomed at different times of the year and made a note to come here year round to check. He found himself adding the garden to a mental gratitude list he kept, then he reviewed the rest of the list. Before he knew it, Flower Girl was tugging on his pants leg and saying "Gardner, I need to leave now for class."

"Oh, yeah. Okay. Why don't I walk you there?"

Flower Girl just gazed at him fondly, not moving from her seat. "You know, you are really extraordinary? I didn't think you could do it. Just let me be alone. But you did it. At first, I didn't feel alone because I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for you to bug me, to interrupt me. But then I grew to trust your silence. I can't tell you how valuable that is to me."

Gardner was immensely gratified by this tribute. You'd have thought he had climbed a mountain or saved her from a burning building, but no, he just kept his mouth shut and sat quietly. But it meant as much to her. Quiet solidarity and empathy were important to this woman. Those were qualities that Gardner valued, too. They weren't overt or flashy, like Derek. They were tacit and substantive. That's what he had to offer.

"You're welcome. I appreciate some of the same things that you do, Leah. I know that's why I like being with you so much, and why I, well, uh, why I want to do what I can to help you be happy."

Flower Girl blushed. "Gardner, I don't want you to think I'm a project you need to work on. I don't need you to help me be happy."

Gardner got flustered. "Oh! I didn't mean it that way! I just..."

Flower Girl cut him off. "I just meant to say, when I'm talking with you and listening to you, spending time with you, I _am_ happy. Or even if I'm not happy, I'm glad to hear what you have to say. I'm glad to know you, that's what I mean. But please don't look at me as this sad sack girl who needs a lot of help. I'm trying really hard not to identify solely as my mental condition. I want to be a normal person, a woman, you know?"

Gardner swallowed thickly and nodded. He said in a husky voice laden with desire "Yeah, you're definitely that. I for sure see you as a normal woman."

Her blush increased and spread down her neck to her ample bosom, which was exposed in a square-necked sundress (floral, naturally). "Good. Glad we got that straightened out. Let's go then."

When they arrived at their classroom destination, Flower Girl turned to bid Gardner farewell. She said "Thanks for taking me for coffee. It was . . . interesting."

Gardner said "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

They both laughed. Gardner was expecting her to hug him like she had Eve and Derek. But she didn't. She just waved her hand and turned around to enter the classroom.

This left him mystified and bereft. Why didn't she hug him? Was he not hug-worthy? Did she not consider him a friend? Was he so repulsive that she didn't want to touch him? Just when he thought they were getting to a meeting of the minds and he was making some headway, he felt like he had taken a huge step back. He felt a wave of depression and disappointment overtake him.


	7. Chapter 7

Gardner had resumed turning up for class early. Aside from the opportunity to speak with Flower Girl, he really did prefer being on the right side of punctual. It gave him time to settle not just his belongings, but his mind. Once he had taken out his notebook, pen, and water bottle and arranged them just so on the desk, he turned to Flower Girl and served his opening conversational gambit, which he had been planning carefully.

He had spotted a bulletin board at the Student Union that had a calendar of events. He noticed that there was a movie playing on Thursday night, part of an Alfred Hitchcock film festival. The feature film this week was going to be the romantic thriller North By Northwest, starring Cary Grant and Eva Saint Marie.

When he had mentioned to Calvin that he wanted to take Flower Girl to a movie, Calvin's eyes got all twinkly.

Calvin asked "Are ya gonna pull a maneuver on her?"

Gardner stared at him nonplussed and gawped. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Calvin, but it sounds dirty, so probably not."

Calvin barked out a hoarse laugh. "Nah, I'm just funnin' ya! That's just a reference to one of the greatest cartoons from the funny pages of all times. Remember when we were kids, we'd read the comics in the newspaper?"

"Yeah, vaguely," Gardner admitted.

"Well, there was this one cartoon, Mother Goose and Grimm, it was so funny! Really dry humor. I'll never forget this one cartoon from that comic strip. There's this guy. He's sitting in a darkened movie theater with his date and he's snaking his arm around her, real nervous, trying to look casual like he knows how to pull the moves, and the caption reads: 'Heimlich's first maneuver.' Isn't that a riot?"

He started rolling around on the floor, laughing and busting a gut.

Gardner's face remained impassive. He and Calvin did not share the same sense of humor. Moreover, he didn't like the idea of joking about something as serious and delicate a situation as his first proper date with Flower Girl. But he knew the best way to placate Calvin was to just roll with it, so he said in his deadpan voice "Yeah, that's hilarious. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Gardner tried to keep Calvin's uncouth joke out of his mind as he attempted to formulate a smooth way of asking Flower Girl to come to the movie with him. He decided that since she hadn't seemed to have picked up on his very strong hint that he wanted to date her, he ought to couch it as just a friendly outing. He stepped around to the front of her desk so has not to startle her.

"Hi, Leah. How are you doing?"

She shot a welcoming smile at him. "I'm good. Really good. How are you, Gardner?"

"Oh, I'm just great. I like Thursdays. They're the slide day to the weekend."

Flower Girl gave it some thought. "Yeah, I suppose so. I never thought of it that way."

Gardner nodded. "Yep. That's what we call 'em at the place where I work." The Good Time bar held "slide" days and nights on Thursdays where they would offer a special deal on their hamburger, chicken and fish slider sandwiches as a way of attracting more customers.

"Where you work? Where's that?"

Gardner blushed. He hadn't meant to divulge any information about his humble place of employment quite yet. He wanted an opportunity to put a bit of lipstick on the pig, so to speak. "Oh, uhm, well, let's talk about that when we've got some time on our hands. Speaking of which, how about you come to a movie with me tonight and I'll tell you all about it? There's an Alfred Hitchcock film festival on at the Student Union building and they're showing one of my favorite ones."

"Gee, well, I'm not sure whether I could ..."

Hearing hesitation in Flower Girl's voice, Eve suddenly interjected herself into the conversation. "I love Hitchcock movies, Gardner! He's such an amazing director! Oh my gosh, I've seen most of his films. I'd love to go with you."

Gardner was now stuck in a very tough position. He had no way to suggest an alternative activity for him and Flower Girl to partake of alone that would be more palatable for her agoraphobia if Eve thought he had his heart set on going to the Hitchcock movie and was just looking for a friend to go with him to see it.

Gardner's demeanor took on that of a hunted animal and he looked to Flower Girl for succor and protection. Could she possibly help him out of this horrifying trap? He tried to communicate his distress silently to her with his eyes. She seemed to pick up on his meaning and said "You know, I think I could give it a go and if I can't hack it, we could always leave, right?"

Eve screeched "No way, we can't leave! You gotta see the scene at the end where they're climbing down Mount Rushmore!"

Flower Girl said "Let's just see how it goes. You know my issues, Eve."

Eve countered "Well then let's ask Derek to come so he can look after you and take you home in case you have to leave early. Then Gardner and I can stay and enjoy the rest of the movie."

Gardner blurted out "That's, that's not necessary! I can take Flow— I mean Leah home."

Eve insisted "No, Gardner. Then you'd be leaving me by myself at the movie. That's not very chivalrous. Not to mention it's not at all romantic," she purred and batted her eyelashes.

Gardner thought to himself 'Did she not take the hint the last time we went out? Geez. This girl is like a barnacle.'

Eve walked over to Derek's desk and spoke to him, gesturing over to Flower Girl and Gardner.

Flower Girl whispered quickly "Gardner, I'm really sorry. I'm making this so difficult. I didn't mean to make this a situation where I need a babysitter. I totally don't! If I need to leave, I can just go and get home on my own."

He said "That's okay, Leah. I know you didn't create this mess. Eve is kind of an irresistible force, isn't she?"

Enigmatically, Flower Girl said "Yes, but I hope you will."

Gardner asked "Will what?"

She shrugged her shoulders and looked at him sadly, perhaps longingly. "Resist her."

Eve came galloping back over, dragging Derek with her. "Yay, Derek is free to go to the movie, too! So it's all set! What time should we all meet? Or do you want to come pick me up, Gardner?"

Gardner winced. "Pick you up? Why would I do that?"

Eve toed the ground coyly and said "Oh, I don't know. You seem like a real southern gentleman and I thought you might want to do that."

Gardner said "Sorry, I don't drive. I take public transportation and taxis."

Eve curled her lip up. "Really? Well that won't do! You're going to need to learn to drive."

Gardner reared back, as if she'd smacked him with a dead fish. He opted not to respond, however, since he had zero plans to change any aspect of his personality, values or identity, particularly his aversion to driving, particularly for this Vampira.

Derek said to Flower Girl "Leah, I can come get you if you want."

Flower Girl said "Thanks, Derek, but I already told Gardner I'd be stopping by and giving him a lift."

Derek lifted his chin and nodded his head at Gardner as if to say 'A point in your favor, dude, well played.' Aloud he said "Okay, that's fine."

Eve said "Well, I guess you can come pick me up, Derek."

Derek rolled his eyes and said "Sure, Eve. No problem."

Gardner cleared his throat, a nervous tic he had when he didn't know what to do or say next. Flower Girl seemed to take the hint. She said "Okay, well that's settled. Let's meet up at the movie on Thursday. Gardner and I both like to get places early, so we'll save you seats. See you guys later. Gardner and I are going to the silent study room in the Student Union now." She reached over and hugged each of them goodbye. "Ready to go, Gardner?"

Gardner just blinked like he was communicating through Morse code in a hostage video. He let Flower Girl lead him away by the hand since by now there was no crowd she needed to fight her way through.

After they were well away from the classroom, Flower Girl let her hand drop.

"You okay, Gardner?" she asked.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," he piped up.

"Okay," she said, grinning. "You look a little shell shocked."

He murmured "I feel that way a little bit."

"Eve sure is a force of nature," she observed sardonically. "You look a little windswept."

Gardner ran his hand through his spiky auburn hair. "Yeah, I feel like I got tempest tossed. Like when I'm out on my boat."

"You have a boat?"

He nodded.

She looked at him admiringly. "Gardner, you're a man of hidden depths."

"Oh, well, I don't know. It's only been out on the water once."

"Why's that?"

"Mainly because I live in it."

"Curiouser and curiouser!"

He fell into line next to her, saying nothing.

She said "So you're not going to tell me anything more about that, or your job or anything?"

He looked off into the distance and said "Well, since we're headed for the silent study room, I guess it will have to wait until another time."

Flower Girl laughed. "We're not really going there, Gardner, unless you'd like to. I just said that so we could escape the scene."

Gardner's eyes grew wide, then he laughed. "Look at you, lying like a pro!"

Flower Girl frowned a bit and said "It's not lying, it's self-preservation. My therapist says that the key to avoiding a panic attack is to always have an escape plan. It's not a moral issue. You've got to have a way to extricate yourself from a situation that's upsetting you, causing you distress, or triggering your panic mode. Bottom line is, you do what you need to do to get out of there ASAPPDQ!"

Gardner asked "What does that mean?"

"As soon as possible, pretty damned quick!" she explained, laughing. "That's what we used to say when we were kids. I think it still comes in handy."

"Don't you feel bad making up a phony excuse?"

"No, I don't. If my sanity depends on it, then I'll do it."

Gardner stopped and gave her a troubled look.

"What?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

He shuffled from foot to foot, not wanting to say what was on his mind, but knowing it was important, that it was crucial to any sort of friendship or relationship that they might have in the future. He decided to press forward with it and let the chips fall where they may.

"Leah, will you please promise me that you won't be phony with me or make up an escape excuse with me? I mean, if you're freaking out or feeling panic rising, if you need to leave, can you just be honest with me? I can take it. I want to know the truth so I can be there for you. I don't need an excuse. If you're not happy or comfortable, then neither am I. Maybe we can just think up a way for you to let me know."

Flower Girl gulped down some sort of strong emotion, what it was, Gardner couldn't tell. "You mean, you want me to give you some sort of a signal? You— you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course I wouldn't mind. I wouldn't want to be the cause of your panic or misery. And I want to protect you from anyone or anything that is. So what do you say? How about if we come up with some kind of safe word?"

"We could have a word, but sometimes it gets so bad that I can't even speak. I get really disoriented and I can't advocate for myself anymore."

Gardner gave it some thought. "Okay. How about this? You think up a word for when you are still compos mentis, so to speak..."

Flower Girl burst into laughter at Gardner's use of the legal terminology for the clinically sane. He smiled at her being such a good sport. He continued on.

"And when you're not able to convey in words what you need, will you just trust me to take care of you as I see fit? Like I'll kind of be your service dog? Lots of veterans of war have them for PTSD and other mental health issues, and they look after them and comfort them when they're not able to be all there, if you know what I mean, like when they're sleeping and having nightmares or having flashbacks and whatnot."

She smiled and said "So you want to be my service dog?"

Gardner put his hands up like paws, stuck out his tongue, and started to pant. Flower Girl started to crack up and reached for his hair and ran her fingers through it, then took her knuckles and rubbed them behind his ear. He leaned into her touch a little too convincingly and was obviously very much enjoying it. Then he caught himself short, realizing things were getting a little too realistic and pulled away.

"Uhm, so, yeah, what do you think?" he asked.

"Okay. I'll promise to be honest with you when I'm in command of my faculties. Let's make my safe word be 'flowers,' since you like to call me Flower Girl. And I'll let you be the judge of when I'm too far gone to make my own decisions for when I need to leave the scene of a total shit show. Okay, Fido?"

Gardner barked and howled. "El nombre de este perro es Duke!" I want to be called Duke. That's the name of the most valuable stamp I ever owned."

She cried "Another story you are so going to need to tell me eventually!"

"I've got lots of stories, I admit it."

"And lots of depths to plumb," she said, waggling her eyebrows.

"Too bad we have to go to that movie with the other two," he lamented.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. That just took on a life of its own. I don't know how that happened. I really don't like crowd scenes. But like you said, college is about making friends and doing group activities and this is healthy, right?"

"Yeah, right," Gardner groaned. "So where are we going, if we're not going to the silent study room?"

Flower Girl said "Want to grab some lunch and bring it to the sanctuary? Then you can fill me in on some of the bits of information you've been dangling at me."

"Sounds great!"

They stopped by one of the campus's many food trucks and bought tacos and sodas. Then they made their way to the Japanese garden. After splitting up their pile of napkins, they dug into their meal.

Gardner told Flower Girl about his job and his boat and his stamp collection. She asked him about why he didn't drive, but he was kind of reserved on the issue, saying it was just kind of arrested development and was something he didn't like to think about.

"I guess you could say it's kind of a phobia of my own."

"Oh, well everyone's entitled to one or two I reckon," she acknowledged with a smile and a wink. "If you ever decided you did want to learn, I'd be happy to teach you."

Gardner smiled uneasily at her and shook his head. "Yeah, yeah, everyone says that but nobody really means it."

Flower Girl reached over and playfully smacked his knee. "Hey! I don't talk outta my ass and I don't take things lightly. When I make an offer of friendship, I mean it. If I say you can count on me, then you can. Right? I assume you're the same way, right?" She looked at him sternly, but kindly.

Gardner sat up a little straighter. "Yeah, of course. I feel the same way. I'm just used to people letting me down, y'know?"

Flower Girl softened her features and said "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be harsh with you. That stinks that people have shafted you and left you wary and jaded. Maybe someday you'll tell me what's behind that statement. Well, cut me some slack and let me have my own clean slate, won't you? It's no less than I'm giving you."

Gardner nodded. "Fair enough. You got it."

She looked satisfied. "Okay. Thanks."

Somewhere in a corner of Gardner's brain, a small dissatisfied voice was echoing that phrase "offer of friendship" and was mocking him. And sure enough, when he walked her to her car and they said goodbye, she had no hug for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, give kudos and let a friend know that this story exists. I'd like to know who is reading this story and it's a pleasure to interact with you. Thanks for reading.


	8. Chapter 8

Gardner and Flower Girl arrived at the auditorium where the movie was showing well in time to for him to treat her to some snacks (she chose Junior Mints, Gardner picked Skittles and they shared a bucket of popcorn) and to nab the best seats in the house, which for Flower Girl meant an aisle seat near the back next to an exit (just in case).

Since Flower Girl was going to sit on the aisle, Gardner was assured of sitting next to her, a strategic victory he was crowing about inwardly. Even if Eve happened to sit next to him now, there at least was no way Derek was going to get a crack at moving in on Flower Girl. That made it well worth the annoyance of having to put up with Eve if it kept Derek at a distance even further removed. And just to make sure Eve didn't try to steal his seat, he put his jacket down on the seat and his drink in the cup holder. He wasn't taking any chances this time.

Eventually, Eve and Derek arrived. As he feared, Eve plopped herself into the seat next to him and quickly insinuated herself into his personal space on the pretext of wanting to chat with Flower Girl. In fact, she did ask Gardner if they could switch seats so the two girls could "catch up on some gossip," but Gardner gave her a firm but polite "nope." Flower Girl discreetly tickled his side with her finger while he attempted to hold back a gurgle of laughter.

Finally, the lights dimmed and the movie started. Gardner was immediately bewildered. Instead of the stylized skyscrapers featured in the opening to _North By Northwest_ , the screen was full of squawking black birds silhouetted flying against a grey background. With abject horror, Gardner realized that instead of a stylish, lighthearted romantic thriller, they were about to watch _The Birds_ , an intense, scary, gory horror movie.

Unhelpfully, Eve yell-whispered "Oh my God, it's the wrong movie! But I love this one, too! It will keep you on the edge of your seat for the whole two hours! It's so over the top frantic!"

Flower Girl, who had never seen the movie, gasped with surprise then began to quietly whimper. Her fingers gripped the arm of the seat divider between her and Gardner and he could see panic already beginning to set in.

"I am so sorry, Leah!" he whispered to her. "I totally messed up! I must have read the schedule wrong. I got the wrong night. They must be playing our movie on another night. This movie _is_ really good, but Eve's right – it's pretty intense. Do you want to stay and watch it, or do you want to go?"

Flower Girl paused to consider her options. "Is it really as horrible as Eve says, or is she exaggerating?"

"Well, it's intense, but – . Listen, if I had a ten-year-old child, I'd let him come and see this movie with me. You know I told you about Rufus from Good Time? I'd bring him with me to see this movie. He'd love it. It's suspenseful, but in a good way. Hitchcock is a master of suspense, but he never goes too far."

Flower Girl gave it some thought. "Okay," she agreed. "Let's stay. We can always leave, right?"

"Right. Just say the word, Flower Girl." He smiled at her and she smiled radiantly back at him.

By now the opening credits were over and the movie had begun. The first scene was very light-hearted and amusing, and it put Flower Girl at ease. She managed to get almost through the first hour of the movie before she started feeling uneasy. Suddenly, chaos erupted during a scene involving a children's birthday party scene where birds began dive bombing the children, and the whole audience started screaming along with the children on the screen.

It was a cliché of Gardner's dreams to hold a girl who was frightened during a horror movie. But Flower Girl's distress took on a different level of discomposure. She wasn't just scared of the images flashing in front of her. She was reacting badly to the stimulation of the high-pitched voices around her. It was the crowd's reaction to the movie that was upsetting her. The collective cacophony of the audience's screams and their close proximity to her was triggering her panic response. She began to clutch Gardner's arm fiercely and started to hyperventilate.

She choked out the word over and over "Flowers, flowers, flowers, please..."

Gardner stood up and lifted her up with him. He moved her towards the aisle so that she would have a little more space and breathing room. Then he put his hands on her arms and steadied her. She was looking at the ground and couldn't see him, so he used his voice to calm her.

"You're okay, Flower Girl. You're okay. I'm here and I'm going to get you out of here right now. Let's just get your things and we'll go. He reached down and grabbed her bag and light coat. He whispered to Eve "I'm sorry, she's having a panic attack and needs to leave immediately. You guys stay and enjoy the movie."

Eve pouted and said "Darn, that's a bummer. Do you want us to come with you?"

Gardner shook his head firmly. "No, you stay here. It will just upset her further if she thinks she's under scrutiny. She gets embarrassed when she's like this. And she'll want to be alone for a while. I'm going to make sure she gets home."

Eve hissed "How are you going to do that, Gardner, you don't drive?"

Gardner summoned up a steely glare and said "Don't worry about it, Eve. I'll handle it."

Derek asked gently "Anything I can do, man?"

Gardner said gratefully "Honestly, just look after Eve. That will be the biggest help. Thanks."

Derek chuckled and saluted him. "Will do."

Gardner guided Flower Girl out into the lobby and asked her if she wanted to freshen up before they left. She was dripping snot and tears and was a fair old mess. She took the hint, thanked him, and tottered off to find the ladies room. When she came back out, her face and hair were damp and she had obviously splashed water on them to revive herself.

"Let's get you a bottle of water to rehydrate you, okay?" Gardner headed for the now-deserted concessions stand and bought her some water. He handed her the bottle, which she accepted gratefully and began to drain as he watched her, making sure she didn't choke herself.

When she seemed to have had her fill, he asked "Good?" She nodded and slipped the bottle into her bag. He held out his hand to her and she took it gratefully. They walked out into the cool night air, of which she took enormous, great gulps. She was still having trouble regulating her breathing.

They sat down on a bench outside the entrance.

"Okay, Flower Girl, let's breathe together like we did before. I'll squeeze your hand and we'll breathe in, then we'll hold it for a couple of counts, then I'll squeeze your hand again and we'll breathe out. Right?"

She nodded obediently. They proceeded to go through their breathing exercise for a few minutes until she had regulated her breathing. Eventually, it was apparent that she was exhausted and her system was moving in the opposite direction. Instead of fight or flight, it seemed to be shutting down, almost passing out.

"You look like you can't take much more of this, Flower Girl. Do you feel like you can drive home?"

"I don't think so, Gardner. I feel really oogy."

"What do you want to do? Should I call you a cab?"

She hesitated, as if there were something on the tip of her tongue but she was afraid to say it.

He prompted her "What? You look like there's something on your mind that you're not telling me. I told you not to hold anything back. No phoniness. Be honest. I can take it. I want to take it. What's on your mind?"

Flower Girl sighed. "Well, you're asking for it, Mister. And keep in mind that I'm probably not compos mentis, as you put it, but..." She hesitated again.

"Yes?" he encouraged her.

"I, I, well, I don't want to be alone. And I don't want to leave you behind. You've done your service dog job very well. You've made me feel safe and I want to continue feeling that way. I like how I feel when I'm with you. Will you stay with me for a while longer? Will you see me home, or will you take me to your home if you don't feel comfortable coming to my house?"

Gardner mulled it over. If he brought her to his house, then that meant introducing her to Calvin, which would probably be its own sort of horror show at worst, or embarrassing at a minimum. Or if he tried to bypass Calvin, he'd be bringing her into a tiny boat and he remembered the last time he did that with a woman, it ended up with a kiss that the woman immediately regretted, and he didn't want to get into that situation again. Best to keep things on more neutral territory.

"Why don't I see you home? You'll be more comfortable there. Then I can either get a taxi or call my brother and ask him to come pick me up, depending on where you live."

"Okay," she agreed. "I'm actually really close to the campus. I just drive so that I have a quick getaway and because public transportation gives me panic attacks."

They went to the main drag and found a taxi rank. The first taxi in line accepted their fare and they piled into the cab. Flower Girl gave her address and then they settled in for the ride. As they rode along, she was still breathing a little erratically and Gardner took her hand and squeezed it to remind her to try to regulate her breathing. She smiled at his prompt. He started to pull his hand away, but she didn't release it. She just kept it clutched gently but firmly in hers.

The cab pulled up in front of a tidy, newly built student apartment complex. It was architecturally beautiful, with Spanish accents. There was a common area, a pool and many other amenities. Flower Girl mentioned they had a laundry room available and they popped their heads in as they passed by. It was very quiet, in contrast to the noisy lobby, so she decided to show it to him.

As they stood in the empty laundry room, leaning against the washing machines, she gestured to them and said "This is the scene of my major agoraphobia moment every week, having to do my laundry. Everyone's waiting for a washer and a dryer, particularly a dryer since they take longer than the wash cycles. You have to stand there and wait and then pounce like a lion hunting its prey." She rolled her eyes. "It's really nice in here now, but normally when I'm here it's usually total mayhem. The only good thing that ever happened to me in the laundry room was that I actually got me a boyfriend once in here."

Gardner was shocked. "You did? How did you manage that? It doesn't seem like a very romantic place."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," she assured him. "This guy had obviously never done a load of laundry in his entire life. He had no clue how to operate a washing machine, didn't know you're supposed to separate the light-colored clothes from the darks. He looked kind of desperate and bewildered. I was just sitting there, minding my own business. He took one look at me, was kind of smitten with my appearance I guess, but I think he also kind of really needed help with his washing. I took pity on him and helped him out."

"So after you finished his laundry, he asked you out?"

"Not exactly. He actually was way behind me in the process and I of course couldn't wait to get the heck out of there, so I bailed as soon as I was done with my own laundry. So he placed an ad in the personal column in the student newspaper the next day. It said _'Thanks for your help, Leah. Can I repay the favor and take you out to dinner? Love, Dirty Laundry'_ "

She cackled with laughter at the memory.

Gardner had to admit it was pretty funny and a pretty smooth move. "That is creative. So since you said he had been your boyfriend, I take it that you did take him up on his offer for dinner?"

Flower girl sighed. "Yeah, I did. But it ended badly. We had different values on many levels, and he just didn't understand women on a really fundamental level."

Gardner wondered what she was alluding to, particularly about not understanding women fundamentally. "Dare I ask for more of an explanation about what he didn't understand about women? I mean, just for scientific research purposes?"

She fixed him with a pointed look and mulled it over, then seemed to make up her mind. "Okay, I'll tell you. But I'm warning you, you asked, so don't complain about it later. Aside from the fact that he was shallow and selfish and a total bastard, basically, he had no idea where the clitoris was located or what its function was, and he was totally un-coachable."

Gardner let out an explosion of flabbergasted laughter. "Wow! Well, I guess I walked right into that one. I can see how that would be a deal-breaker."

She crossed her arms and nodded sagely. "Uh huh. It's a must-have feature. He seemed to have it in his head that all he had to do was poke my glory hole and he'd have me singing like a canary." She rolled her eyes. Then she paused and looked a bit horrified and put her hand to her mouth.

"I'm sorry, Gardner! Am I being too crude for you? I'm kind of a little disoriented still from my panic attack and the real me is slipping out. I've sort of got a bawdy side to me that I've been keeping from you because I didn't want you to think I was a skank or anything, but sometimes I cuss and talk about sex and let it all hang out."

Gardner looked at her fondly and said "You don't have to be anyone other than who you are, Leah – "

She corrected him "Flower Girl. I think we should agree you're going to call me Flower Girl. It's what's in your head, isn't it?"

He nodded shyly.

"Then that's what you should call me."

"Anyway, Flower Girl, I don't mind if you cuss or just let your hair down. You go ahead and be who you are. We said we'd be honest and we won't be phony. I'll let you know if you get to be too much for me. What should my safe word be?" He smirked, his eyes twinkling with merriment.

She said "How about 'soap,' as in, you want to wash my mouth out with soap?"

Gardner said "Okay, that'll be fine."

Flower Girl said "Mostly I just like to tell it like it is and I don't like to sugar coat the truth. I think that's important with the people in my life whom I really trust and care about. So you can take that as a compliment."

Gardner's eyes lit up and he grinned widely. "Then I will."

She said "Okay, then let's get the hell out of this laundry room! I've had enough of reminiscing, and it's bad enough I'm going to have to be in here in a few days fighting for a machine."

Gardner asked "Why don't you just do your laundry late at night, at a similar time like now, instead of leaving it for whatever time you've chosen, when everyone else is doing it?"

Flower Girl exclaimed "Gardner! That's genius! Why didn't I think of that?"

Gardner asked "I don't know. Why didn't you?"

"Well, I guess it's because I almost never leave my room and it never occurred to me to scope out different times to see when this room isn't crowded. I just picked a time in my schedule when I wasn't in class or studying and decided that's when I'd do my laundry. But you're right! I've gotta be more strategic about this. You'd think that would have occurred to me."

She sighed and continued explaining her thought process. "I can't tell you the amount of mental gymnastics I go through trying to game things out just so that I'm able to function in the world and avoid being in crowded situations – it can get exhausting. Just little adjustments I make, adaptations, psychological tricks and practical fixes. But that's brilliant! Thanks for that."

"Glad I could be of help," Gardner said, feelings of supreme satisfaction and pride swelling his chest.

They made their way to her apartment. She unlocked the door and turned to ask him "Will you come in?"

He said "If you want me to. I know you like to be alone after stressful situations. I don't want you to feel obliged to invite me in. I can just hang out until my ride comes."

"No, it's okay, Gardner. I'd be glad for your company. You have a calming effect on me. I'd like an opportunity to unwind after that awful movie and get my mind off it. Come on in."

He assented and followed her in. It was a tiny single bedroom apartment with no roommate.

He looked around and saw many belongings which he knew all told a tale about Flower Girl, but he felt that those were her secrets to tell and that he should wait for her to tell them when she was ready, so he didn't snoop around or really even look at his surroundings. He just made for the couch and sat down.

She walked into the small galley kitchen and called to him "I haven't got a wide variety of drinks, but I can offer you both non-alcoholic and alcoholic drinks. What do you prefer?"

He answered back "I'm not a big alcohol drinker. Anything else is fine."

She popped her head out. "Okay. I've got orange juice, water, oooorrrrrr...."

He lifted an eyebrow, waiting to see what came at the end of that enticing, elongated syllable.

She offered with girlish glee "We could pretend we're at college back east somewhere and it's truly fall and it's chilly out, and I'll make us hot cocoa with little marshmallows in it."

Gardner booped his nose with his finger three times and said "Ding, ding, ding! You win a prize! You hit it on the nose. That's my favorite drink. Well, that or a Roy Rogers."

She giggled and started preparing their cocoa. "I used to order Shirley Temples when my parents would take me out to dinner when I was a kid. I really liked the taste of the grenadine syrup they use for that drink. But I hate the maraschino cherries they plop on top. Ick! Those things don't even look real. They look like they're made from rubber."

Gardner moaned "Oh, no. How can you malign that most magnificent of fruits? Those are truly the jewels of the fruit kingdom!"

Flower Girl rolled her eyes. She said "Well I'll tell ya what. If I ever get a drink that comes with one of those disgusting cherries, that sucker is going right in your mouth, Gardner, no questions asked. Deal?"

"Bonus! Deal." He glowed at the prospect of the two of them having drinks sometime in the future. He really liked that she was even thinking in terms of their spending more time together going forward.

She brought their mugs over to the couch and sat one down on the coffee table in front of Gardner. He thanked her for it and blew tentatively on it, then sipped it appreciatively. They both sank into the couch, sitting side by side, shoulders touching, both of them with their feet up on the coffee table. They were gazing in front of them off into an invisible vanishing point, each lost in their own thoughts.

Finally, Flower Girl spoke. "Gardner, how well do you think you need to know a person before you start falling in love with them?"

He hitched in his breath. This was a question of great magnitude and complexity. The consequences of his answer were enormous. He hummed to signify that he was mulling over his thought process carefully.

"Well, if you'd have asked me last year, I'd have said that love was an artificial construct that was for sentimental people who needed an excuse for their foolish behavior and baser instincts. But then I met someone who I thought I might be in love with, or who at least showed me that love was an open door that I could walk through if I wasn't a coward about it and was willing to take a chance, so I changed my attitude about love. But then again, that relationship didn't last as long as some of the vegetables in my brother's refrigerator crisper drawer, though, so maybe it was a bit hasty to be thinking about love. I just don't know, Flower Girl."

He turned to look into her eyes and asked "What about you? What do you think? And why are you asking me?"

Flower girl put her cocoa mug down on the table and took Gardner's from his hand and set his down as well. She took hold of the hand that held his cup and held it fast.

"I asked because I think I'm falling for you, Gardner. But there's no doubt that I know very little about you. I mean, it wasn't until the last few days that I found out what you do for a living, where you live, and that one of your greatest passions is stamps. Those are all incredibly important pieces of information, and yet I didn't feel like I needed to know any of them to know that I really, really care about you.

"The things I already know that are most important are that you're a sweet person, you're smart, you're gentle, and you are considerate and kind and well-mannered. You're humble and not afraid to admit when you're wrong about something or made a mistake. You take exquisite care of me and seem to care very much about my well-being. You're very accepting of my quirks and faults. You're ambitious about your future and want it to be dedicated to something that benefits humanity. And what all that information has added up to is that I'm falling for you. Do you get what I mean when I say that?"

Gardner shook his head no. "Not exactly. I prefer specificity and precision in these types of conversations, based on past negative experiences, if you don't mind. I have a bad habit of taking things for granted and assuming too much."

She smiled and inched a little closer to him and squeezed his hand. "It means more than just that I find you handsome and attractive. You make me feel warm inside, you make me feel happy when I'm with you, and I'd like to spend as much time with you as I can. And not just as friends. And definitely not always part of this awful group situation we seem to have fallen into."

Gardner jerked his hand back in surprise. "You— you mean you're not into Derek? Eve said –"

Flower Girl rolled her eyes. "Gardner, you're so gullible. Sweet, but gullible. That girl was playing you. She wanted you for herself, so she tried to make you think there was something between me and Derek."

Gardner shook his head. "No, no, he was definitely giving you the big eye."

Flower Girl sniffed dismissively. "Well I didn't notice it, but regardless, I'm not interested in him that way. I don't shit where I eat. He's in my study group and I'd never date a study partner."

A look of supreme relief broke over Gardner's face.

Flower Girl looked gratified. "You thought he was your competition, didn't you? Do you maybe like me a little?"

Now it was Gardner's turn to roll his eyes. But he didn't say anything.

Flower Girl poked him in his ribs. "Come on, speak. Tell me. Tell me where I stand." She was joking around at first, but then she got a serious, melancholy look on her face. "Please Gardner, would you mind answering my question seriously? Am I foolish to like you this much even though I hardly know you?"

Gardner said "Well I don't know how much you like me, but I'm never going to invalidate your feelings. They are what they are. And if you feel like you don't know me well enough, well that's easy enough to remedy. You can just spend more time with me until you know me better. We can have fun together and build some history together and suss out what each other is like, and see whether your instincts were right."

"But how do you feel about me, Gardner?" she asked somewhat pathetically.

He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He was stuttering and gasping like a fish out of water.

"Breathe, Gardner, breathe..." she joked.

"Har har, very funny," he said. "I already made up my mind, Flower Girl. You're the one for me."

She smiled with relief. "Does that mean you're falling for me, too?"

Gardner shrugged his shoulders and said "I don't know if I'm justified in saying so yet. Like you said, we don't know a lot about each other yet, just the superficial details. But I do feel like I know what type of person you are. And I feel something for you that's so strong, so powerful that it makes me want to care for you every day of our lives. So how about you and I spend our time together and you can prove me right or prove me wrong about the validity of the depths of my adoration? It took only a few days in my last relationship to show me how utterly deluded I was about me and my last girlfriend's compatibility. I'd say we broke all land speed records for dysfunctional dating, so I'm not really worried about you and me vying for that dubious honor."

Flower Girl fumed. "You know, you've mentioned this ex-girlfriend of yours several times, and it doesn't bother me at all because it's letting me know what a formative experience that relationship was for you, but I have to say it makes me so mad to hear that somebody treated you so badly, Gardner. You deserve all good things with a maraschino cherry on top, you know? I know I'd sure treat you right if you gave me the chance."

He laughed but suddenly a cloud of uncertainty passed over his face. Flower Girl noticed and asked "What, did I say something wrong? What's wrong?"

Gardner cleared his throat nervously. "Well, can I ask you something that's been kind of bugging me?"

"Sure, ask me anything. I hate to see you frowning and I hate to think I put that frown there. Give me a chance to remove it."

Gardner summoned his courage and asked "How come when you say goodbye to Derek and Eve, you always hug them, but you never hug me? You always just wave goodbye to me and walk away. Am I not huggable? I mean, am I not physically attractive, or do you not feel affectionate towards me?"

Flower Girl tilted her head up towards the ceiling and took a deep breath. "Ohhhhh, Gardner, if you only knew how attractive you are and how affectionate I feel! That's exactly why I _don't_ hug you. I've been afraid of getting that close to you because I didn't think I could control myself. I thought if I got within more than four feet of you, I might spontaneously combust."

"Oh!!!" Gardner exclaimed. "Ohhhhhh, I see. Wow, that's kind of flattering but also really frustrating. What do I have to do to get a hug from you?"

"Just take it," she said simply. "I've just been waiting for you. I didn't want to make the first move. I didn't think it would be right for me to, particularly given your last negative experience with that woman. I wanted you to set the pace. So I'll wait until –"

Gardner looped his arms around Flower Girl and pulled her in for an all-enveloping hug. "Oof!" she huffed, not expecting his bold move, then she threaded her arms around his broad back and gave him a squeeze. She buried her head in his neck and gave an obvious sniff. "You smell like some sort of cologne plus something sweet."

"Probably sugar," Gardner murmured as he buried his own head in Flower Girl's neck and hair, taking deep whiffs of her lilac scent. "It's all that candy I ate at the movie and then the hot cocoa I drank, I guess."

"Hmmm, I should call you Sweetie," she hummed, as she continued to sniff him.

Gardner poked her neck with his long nose and said "You always smell like lilac so there's no surprise there. Can I see what you taste like?"

Flower Girl giggled "Sure, go ahead."

Gardner let his tongue roam the column of her neck, from where it joined her shoulder to just under her ear. She shivered with delight and arousal.

"You taste pretty sweet yourself," he whispered in her ear.

"D-d-do I?" she stuttered, feeling heat rush to her core.

"Yes. Can I see if your lips are as sweet?"

"Knock yourself out, big boy," she giggled.

Gardner leaned back and took Flower Girl's face in his hands, surveying her with keen eyes, letting his gaze roam over every feature of her face and using his fingers to trace them. Then he took his lips and brushed them over her lips, just letting the dry friction rub their two mouths together for a moment, before he applied some pressure and turned it into a real kiss. Very slowly and delicately he stuck his tongue out and began to run it over her lips, tasting them just on the surface, licking at them delicately, teasing out of her a moan.

When she opened her mouth to moan he pressed in a bit further, asking for entry. She invited him in, drawing him in with her own tongue. Soon they were tangled up in each other's embrace and exploring one another's mouths, devouring each other thoroughly.

Flower Girl had her hand at the nape of Gardner's neck and was combing her nails through his hair, which made him shudder with delight. Gardner's hands were starting to travel down from her arms to her ribs, to her waist and hips. He wanted to bring her closer to him.

"Do, do you mind if we stand up?" he asked.

"Stand up? Why?" she asked, baffled.

"Because I want my hug," he crooned as he continued to plant small kisses on her lips and grasp her waist. "This position is not optimal for that."

She laughed "True that. Okay, let's do it."

They both stood up, a bit punch drunk and unsteady on their rubbery legs. They took a moment to look at each other through hazy, hormone-fueled vision. Gardner opened his arms to Flower Girl and she stepped into his embrace. He noted that she was almost the same height as he was. When she arrived in his embrace, he wrapped his arms around her and clasped his hands in a knot at her back and hugged her tightly, almost lifting her off the ground. She giggled in response.

"Ohhhhh, I've wanted to do this ever since I realized you were a hugger," Gardner revealed wistfully.

"I've been dying to hug you, Gardner, honestly," she said. "This was worth the wait," she sighed, as she nuzzled his neck and ran her hands up and down his back.

They rocked each other back and forth, side to side. Then Flower Girl stilled their motion and stepped closer to Gardner, getting as close to him as she could. Gardner got uneasy, knowing that at this point she could probably feel his erection pressing into her body. He cleared his throat and said "Uhm, you'll have to forgive me if parts of me are kind of showing off just how happy you're making me. I don't mean to be crude."

Flower Girl laughed. "You don't have to apologize, Gardner. Why do you think I'm clinging to you like a tree monkey? I want to be that close to you. I want to feel that arousal. I've got the female version of it happening, too. Don't doubt that for a second."

"You do?" Gardner asked, surprised at both her frankness and her receptiveness towards him.

"Yep. To quote Elvis, you're a hunk a hunk of burnin' love."

Gardner blushed but he smiled with gratification at such flattering words. They continued to grasp each other and press their bodies together, their crotches slotting into each other. Gardner thought if this went on for much longer, he might even climax just from the pressure. Rather than embarrass himself, he ended the embrace and pulled away.

He cleared his throat. "Well, uhm, how are you feeling now? No panic left over from the movie? I'm really sorry that turned into such a disaster."

She led him back to the couch to sit down. "No, I have to say I'm feeling no pain right now," she grinned. "My head's in a completely different space right now. Full of bliss."

They sat there just grinning at each other, not saying anything but speaking volumes with their eyes. Eventually, Gardner said "I should really get going, let you rest and recharge. It's been a big night for you. I'm so proud of you."

Flower Girl said "Thank you. I'm proud of me, too. I can't _wait_ to tell my therapist about this. I wish I had my car so I could drive you back home."

Gardner shrugged. "No worries. I can call a cab. You know what? I think you may have finally given me a reason to want to learn how to drive."

"Really?" she looked amazed. "How come?"

"Because I couldn't be your hero tonight and just drive you home when you were feeling all panicky and spaced out, and now you have to go back and get your car tomorrow. And if I could drive and had my own car, then you wouldn't even have to worry about driving me home."

"Oh, that's very thoughtful of you Gardner, but I really don't mind any of it."

"Yeah, but when I think of how things could have gone, I mind it. Or at least, it gives me ideas for the future of how things could go better. I mean," he suddenly got shy "if there is a future."

Flower Girl reached for his hand and caressed it. "I want a future. I want us to be together, Gardner. I'm not letting you call that cab until you tell me whether you do, too."

Gardner said "Yes, yes, of course! I thought I made that clear! I want us to be a 'you and me,' a couple. I guess I should have asked you more formally. The last time I took it for granted it blew up in my face. Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, I want to be yours and I want you to be mine. I want us to be together. You like proverbs, so I'll give you a saying I really like. _'A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single footstep.'_ I want to take that journey with you and much further than a thousand miles. I want it to transcend miles and time and the bounds of possibility. Because the journey will be in our hearts and minds and souls, too, and their boundaries stretch to infinity."

Gardner reached forward and stroked Flower Girl's flaming red hair, taking a hank of it and tugging it gently. "You sure do have a way of making me think more deeply about things. I appreciate that. I think that's the nicest possible answer to a girlfriend proposal I could ever have gotten."

Flower Girl shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say, I'm a deep thinker. Maybe one day that will start to get on your nerves and you'll change your mind about me."

"Never!" Gardner insisted and guided her face towards him by pulling her by the hair he still had in his fingers, then planted a kiss on her lips and gripped her head tighter, angling her in to lend more pressure and force to the kiss.

After a few more minutes, Gardner reluctantly pulled away and said "Okay, I really should call for a ride. Can I use your phone?" He stood up and walked to the instrument and made a call to a cab company he used frequently enough to know their number by heart. In fact, he apparently knew their dispatcher by name and was on a chatting basis with them.

"Hey, Verna. It's me, Gardner. I need a cab to get me home. No, I'm not intoxicated. I just went to a movie at the college and now I need a ride home. Uhm, no, I'm not at the college. I'm nearby at a friend's house. No, I'm not – that's none of your business, Verna! No, I'm not telling you. No, I'm not going to say whether it's a male or female! Verna!!! That's extortion!!! I just need a ride home, Verna." Gardner fumed and rolled his eyes at Flower Girl, who had been standing there listening to the conversation, highly entertained.

"Okay, fine. It's a female's apartment building." He gave her the address. "I expect my ride to be here pronto now that you've extracted the info from me that you wanted. Okay? Thanks. I appreciate it. Thanks for looking out for me. Even if you're a nosy old bird."

He hung up the phone and he and Flower Girl burst into laughter. She said "Man, that third-degree treatment was hilarious! That's like having another mother, right?"

Gardner's face involuntarily contorted with an expression that he hoped Flower Girl couldn't interpret. He quickly reframed his features. "Yeah, she's a real busybody. But she means well."

Apparently oblivious to the landmine about Gardner's parents she had nearly tripped, Flower Girl asked "Should we go wait outside?"

Gardner said "Oh, you don't have to come with me. I'm okay standing out there by myself."

Flower Girl shook her head. "I don't want to waste a precious minute that I could be spending with you. It would drive me crazy knowing that you're downstairs and I'm up here. Let me just get myself together and we'll go down and wait together."

She grabbed her coat and her purse and keys and they walked out the door. As they made their way down the narrow hallway, Gardner wondered whether he dared to take Flower Girl's hand in his. They were bumping shoulders already as it was a snug fit for two people to walk down the corridor, and as Gardner was busy cudgeling his brain agonizing over the decision, he felt a warmth envelop his hand. Flower Girl had decided to be bold and literally take matters into her own hands. Gardner gave her a grateful squeeze and smiled at her.

They didn't have long to wait. Almost as soon as they hit the street, the cab drew up at the complex's main entrance. Flower Girl got a panicked look on her face. She clung to Gardner's hand tightly.

"Gardner, promise me that things won't be weird with us after tonight. Promise me that this is the beginning of something good. That I didn't just imagine this and that when I wake up tomorrow you're not going to ignore me."

Gardner enfolded her in his arms. "I promise, Flower Girl. I can understand why you'd fear that happening. But it won't. I'll never do that to you again. This is real. You can take it to the bank. I care for you. I want to be your boyfriend. I guess I should have told you that, too. You're mine and I'm yours." He drew back from her so she could see his eyes. They were shining with affection and devotion.

"Okay then. I'll just say goodnight. Goodnight, Gardner."

"Goodnight, Flower Girl."

They kissed delicately, hugged one more time, then Gardner climbed into the cab and took off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, give kudos and let a friend know that this story exists. I'd like to know who is reading this story and it's a pleasure to interact with you. Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment, give kudos and let a friend know that this story exists. I'd like to know who is reading this story and it's a pleasure to interact with you. Thanks for reading.


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